Sinner's Island
by TwistedforTwilight
Summary: A troubled Edward leaves his hometown for an exciting adventure. A FGB Auction STORY written for Leckadams. SLASH. All Human? M for good times.
1. Chapter 1

PLEASE READ!

In "Piers Plowman", a poem written somewhere in the 1300's it was mentioned by an unknown author that "patience is a virtue". This poet sorely underestimated the importance of this trait. Patience is one of the most vital attributes we can be blessed with. Unfortunately, not many of us have a lot of it. I have to say that Lauren (leckadams) has the patience of a saint. Lauren (who is getting married tomorrow – CONGRATULATIONS LAUREN!) purchased a one-shot from me over a year ago in the FGB auction, and she's been patiently waiting for me to live up to my end of the bargain. She bought a one-shot, but I've made her a 12-chapter ficlette instead.

I'm doing some major edits and tweaking, but the raw story is **completely written. **I plan on posting at least once a week.

**I AM LOOKING FOR A BETA FOR THIS STORY**. If you are interested please let me know! Please overlook any mistakes for the time being. Hopefully, they will be fixed soon.

I wrote this story while on a month break from school. I also have the month of December off and I plan to get to one or more of my WIP's, so watch out for that.

Disclaimer: – The locations, landmarks, and events mentioned are only real in my imagination. The usual; I don't own Twilight or any of the characters.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

From sprawling acreage of dairy farms, apple orchards and cotton plantations, to miles of green forests and swampland, I note that Louisiana is nothing like Illinois. Being born and raised in Chicago I've never experienced life in the country, especially that of the Deep South, where slavery is long gone, but even some of the area's most prominent constituents still hang confederate flags high and proud, resounding proof that their ancestors beliefs have survived for more than a century.

As we venture into the town limit of Bon Terre, I watch through the window as children frolic in the surrounding ponds and lakes, ride their dirt bikes along the two-laned winding roads, and wave staunchly at lonely strangers in back seats of taxicabs.

I wave back, having felt a twinge at just being acknowledged. Living as I have the last year, I'm astonished that these people actually _see_ me, and not just the ghost of a man that I've become.

I'm not a total recluse. I still hang out with Alice and my friends, and I do show up to work every weekday, but it's irrefutable that I have changed in this last year.

My friends have noticed this, but don't comment.

I don't divulge any information about myself any more, and people don't ask.

I've become a fixture in their worlds, but they don't know anything about me now, nor do they care to. I still get invitations, and I participate in their antics, enjoy a drink or two, and might even share a laugh, but the joy never penetrates further than the surface of my hollow being.

My friends have always found me a bit weird. I've never been _normal_ per se. I've always been somewhat subdued and have always felt a bit like an outsider, but even though I forever feel out of my element I always have something to contribute to a conversation. I'm intelligent, witty and funny, but the events in the last couple years have taken its toll on my already shaky confidence and self-esteem, leaving me increasingly submissive and unsociable as time passes.

The driver pulls up an extended driveway and my attention diverts to the large structure planted firmly in the midst of a large expanse of land. The vehicle comes to a halt, and I slowly alight from the back seat.

I pull my bag out of the trunk of the taxi as I survey my surroundings. It looks exactly like the pictures in the pamphlet.

When Alice had told me about the bed and breakfast that one of her sorority sisters owned in Bon Terre, Louisiana, a small town located just off the Mississippi River, and north of Baton Rouge, I thought that she must have been sorely exaggerating the beauty, but this place was absolutely breathtaking.

The Stormy Haven Inn is a huge three-story home nestled in the midst of extravagant flowery gardens, beautiful green plants, and a large clean pond, with a fountain in the middle. The house is just as gorgeous as the landscape. The old red bricks appear historic, and the white shutters framing the windows, traditional.

A large wooden porch surrounds the inn, and a small veranda protrudes from old French doors off the third floor. A few potted plants, two lounging chairs, a small table and a large porch swing are located on the front part of the deck giving it that comfortable, homey feeling, which is a wonderful contrast from the posh lawn that sparkles with class and elegance.

My reluctant feet crunch along the stone walkway up to the residence that I will be spending the next two months in.

When Alice suggested that I needed a break I had no doubts that she was correct, but actually leaving my apartment in Chicago for the entire summer was a daunting thought. It's my only refuge, but I fear I'm about to hit rock bottom, and if this get-away works to repair the tattered remains of what's left of me, than it will be worth leaving the comfort of my only sanctuary to give it a shot.

The pelleting sunrays overhead causes a thick sheen of sweat to break across the back of my neck, and exposed forearms. I had rolled the sleeves of my outer shirt up just as the taxi approached the estate, due to the jittery nervousness at meeting the people I am to spend the season with.

I'd obviously overdressed for the occasion. The eighty-five degree day differed dramatically to the cool sixty degrees I've been accustomed to the last few weeks in my hometown. My jeans feel tighter than normal, and the t-shirt/button up combo I'm wearing are choking.

My slow footsteps carry me a few feet from the porch as a woman steps outside the front-screened door.

"Hey there! You must be Edward." The cheery voice says. The day is bright, and with my sunglasses packed, I'm forced to raise a hand to my brow to shield the sun, so I can view the shadowed figure looming overhead.

From Alice's description this must be Rosalie. To say she's beautiful is an understatement. With her long blonde hair, sky blue eyes, a perfect rack, thin waist, and long toned legs, she's a bombshell for certain.

And yet she does nothing for me.

I sigh, but quickly resolve to maintain the promise that I made not to let my problems follow me here. I'm definitely not looking for a relationship or fling anyway, and from what I understand, Rosalie is newly married and _in_ _love_.

In love? Whatever that means.

"Yes I am. You must be Rosalie." I answer. She skips down the three wooden steps, and I put my luggage down in just enough time for her to launch herself into my arms. It isn't the welcome I'd been expecting, and I let out a surprised laugh at her attack.

"Just as I suspected." She says suspiciously, pulling away. Before she can expand on her strange comment a clearing of a throat stalls her words.

"Mrs. Rose McCarty, what the hell are you doin'? You're gonna scare the poor guy off before he steps his foot in the door." Rosalie turns to a mammoth of a man on the porch. He has his hands on his hips in a stance like he's angry, but his lips twitch and his eyes are filled with mirth…and warmth.

"But Emmett…he smells like the city. C'mere n' smell for yourself."

I know by his name that this goliath of a man is Rosalie's husband of a little over a year.

"Sorry Edward. My wife misses the city, and we don't get back to Chicago often enough for her liking."

Rosalie huffs, clutching my hand. She brushes passed Emmett, poking him in the side with a sharp, red fingernail as she does. "Don't listen to this oaf. Come on in and I'll show you to your room. Once you get settled maybe we can have a chat. You can tell me how your sis is doin', and what's been goin' on in that big ol' city of yours."

We enter the foyer and I'm amazed at the décor. It's charming, comfortable…yet elegant. It matches the exterior of the home perfectly. Cherry wood floors flow throughout the entire first level. Plush rugs, and thick drapes, match the furniture in rich burgundy's and browns.

"Wow. This place…it's fantastic." I say more to myself, rather than the owner.

"Don't look so surprised Edward, this _is_ what I went to school for." She chides playfully.

Both her and Alice went to school for design. While Alice went to school for clothing design, Rosalie tapped into interior design, and I can see that her talents have not been exaggerated.

"I'm sorry." I say sheepishly. "It's just so…wonderful."

She blushes, but drags me forward. My eyes continue to study each detail put into each room throughout the residence. "C'mon Edward. Let's rid you of your belongings so you can check the place out proper."

We climb a wide cherry staircase up to the next level where there are three doors off to the right, and two doors off to the left. I look up to see another level, and Rosalie follows my eyes.

"The third floor is mine and Emmett's home. We don't have a kitchen up there, but we do have a living area, dining area and, of course, the bedroom and bath. I'll show you sometime if you'd like, but it's a lot simpler than what you'll see down here."

We take a left, toward the side with two doors. "I put you on this side by yourself…for the time bein'. I've only booked the room next to you for three weeks out of the summer. The three rooms on the other side are taken pretty much all summer long by visitors that will be comin' and goin', but they won't be much of a bother to you."

She opens the door to my room. "I gave you the biggest room since you'll be stayin' with us the longest, and well, you're Alice's kin, of course."

"How long have you been here?" I ask. According to Alice, Rosalie was born and raised in Baton Rouge, but decided to study at Northwestern. Alice hadn't told me that Rosalie was so…rustic, not that I mind. It's kind of refreshing actually, and it pulls a rare smile from me.

I've been told that Rosalie graduated at the top of her class, with honors. She had also been a part of several study groups, and tutored a couple of her sisters in the sorority house. I have no doubt that she is very intelligent, and I hope my question isn't misunderstood.

Rosalie catches on fast, winking at me. "Oh Edward, watch out. These locals get to you but fast. I've been here six long years, fresh out of college, but from what you can probably see I might as well have been born here in Bon Terre.

That's why I'm so happy you're here. Maybe you can teach me to be citified again." Her voice is filled with humor and mischief. I've only known her for no more than ten minutes, but it's apparent that she loves her home, and has a great deal of pride in what she's accomplished here.

Her eyes lose a little bit of their light, and she looks concerned. She reaches for my arm and squeezes gently, her voice becoming a low murmur, "now, don't go on worryin' Edward. Alice hasn't told me anything that you wouldn't want just anyone knowin', but she says you ain't had much cause to be happy lately. You're far away from home, so I just want you to know that if you ever need anyone to talk to that I'll be here for you."

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes to mind since I have no idea how to respond. It surprises me that Alice even relayed that much to Rosalie.

Alice and I used to be close. She was the person that I would always confide in. She was a great listener, and always helped me to work through my issues, but this last year I've successfully pushed everyone away, including my only sister.

Mutually, we've reduced the time we spend together to once or twice a month, rather than weekly. We don't carry any hard feelings for not wanting to see each other as much, and when we do get together we manage to have a good time, but it's clear that we both hesitate to talk about anything of real importance, electing to keep our visits light and fun instead.

Thankfully, Emmett chooses that opportunity to barge into the room with my bags, setting them by the door. He stands awkwardly in the doorframe for a moment, before his smile grows and he extends his hand. "It's nice to meet ya, Edward. You must know by now that I'm Emmett, Rosalie's husband." He has a hearty handshake, and his smile is real.

"So, Rosie says you're gonna be writin' a book while you're here." He inquires, with genuine interest.

I chuckle, feeling my face heat up from all the attention I'm suddenly getting.

"Hopefully…I've had a couple of ideas, but I've always had a lot of other things going on. I figure that this is as good a chance as any."

"Is it gonna be a suspense? Mystery? There just aren't enough good mysteries out there." Emmett surmises thoughtfully.

I massage the back of my neck, pondering his question. "I'm not sure yet. I've got a couple of ideas. Some suspense? Drama maybe?"

"Cool." Emmett responds, and the room grows quiet.

Rosalie seems to sense the sudden awkwardness and interrupts. "Well, we can talk more at mealtime. You get settled in. Supper will be ready in a couple of hours, so feel free to roam the property, or head downstairs. There's a game room down there, and that's where you'll find the laundry area.

We have two couples here already, but they won't be eatin' with us since they've decided to take the dinner cruise down on the dock. We're not expectin' the other couple until late tonight, so if you're joinin' us, it'll just be the four of us."

"Four?" I question.

"Oh yeah, my brother Jasper lives in the cabin on the east edge of the property. Most times he eats dinner at the house, and since I'm cookin' his favorite meatloaf I'm guessin' tonight won't be an exception."

"Sounds good. Thank you."

"Let me know if you be needin' anything." She says as they exit.

As the door closes I'm flooded with relief. I enjoyed meeting them, but I've just been so used to being alone lately that I've come to find comfort in solitude. I look out the large window in my room to see what kind of view I have. I'm facing the back of the house and I'm surprised at the disparity between the two sides of the property.

The front yard is such a large open space, clean with vivid colors. The landscape in the back of the house is almost primitive. The sun doesn't touch the forest's floor, as thick heaving trees shade the small area. The ground is littered with rocks, twigs, and branches, and after several feet literally drops directly into some sort of wetland. The murky marsh is long and wide disappearing in the midst of concentrated swampland.

There's a small boardwalk that doesn't look too sturdy with an equally dilapidated motorboat parked beside it. I'm not sure how the boat could cut through the water since the liquid looks muddied and impenetrable.

Even during the daylight hours, the backyard seems obscure, and enigmatic. The unkempt appearance makes it appealing in a mysterious way. It has an aura surrounding it, like it's a place where secrets are made and kept.

I can only imagine how it would feel in the dark of night.

As I'm turning away from the window, I scarcely notice a small building through the trees, off in the distance and realize that must be Rosalie's brothers place.

Without another thought I grab my bags and start to unpack my meager belongings.

The spacious bedroom is tastefully done in navy blue, accented by a soft beige. The room is equipped with a large closet, and a good-sized bathroom. The furniture, like most of the other pieces in her house are magnificent, but what I find most impressive is the desk that I'll be working at for the next couple of months.

I run my finger over the intricate pattern carved into the edge. The detail is exquisite. I plug my laptop in since I used it on the plane and in the cab, and then decide a hot shower is needed to loosen my weary muscles.

Towel drying my hair, I walk back into the bedroom, and look around, not believing that I'm actually here. I sit on the edge of the bed, contemplating my new adventure. For lack of anything better to do for the moment, I bounce on the mattress slightly to see if the box spring squeaks.

Not that it'll matter; my bed hasn't made those types of noises in over a year…way before the divorce.

_I can't believe I'm single again_.

Twenty-six years old and divorced. I not only lost my wife, I lost my best friend.

Bella and I had met in college. We were both going to the University of Illinois to become teachers. She studied to be an English teacher, while my goal was to become a Music teacher. Throughout our freshman year we found ourselves in many of the same classes. We became close friends, and I would have been more than happy to leave it that way, but Bella wanted more. I didn't want to lose her as a friend, but I had a terrible dating history. All my past girlfriends had eventually cheated on me, and unfortunately Bella had turned out to be no exception.

I've never been a sexual person. I don't yearn for sex like other guys do. I just enjoy the companionship. When I started having sex at seventeen I felt forced into it, and because of that I didn't perform well. I guess I've never really gotten over that, and have always felt inadequate with every girl I've been with since then. So, when I was required to perform as a husband, it always left me and Bella anxious and unsatisfied.

Bella and I were only married just over two years before she gave up on me, and fulfilled her desires with some guy she met on-line, on a 'Single's' website of all places. Alistair proposed to her before he found out she was still married to – and living with - me.

Apparently he decided to forgive her for her deceit since they're tying the knot next month. Thank God I won't be in town for that event, since it takes place only a few short blocks from my apartment.

Sighing heavily, I punch my fist into the mattress.

I don't want to dwell on the circumstances that brought me here. I don't want to be the brooding singleton of the group. I don't want to live out the rest of my life being miserable and alone.

I want to find peace and joy. I want to heal.

I don't want to be broken anymore.

I came here to redefine myself. When the new school year begins I want to return to Chicago a new man, with a new attitude…with hopes, dreams and confidence. I don't want to live with fear of rejection, or ruled by my incompetence. Eventually I'd learn to take risks, maybe leading me down a path willing to try to find love again.

There has to be someone out there for me - someone who will love me for the way that I am, and forgive my lacking sexual prowess.

_I can only hope_.

XXXXX

Armed with a bottled-water and my camera I head out the front door to check out the property. I had sent Alice a text earlier to let her know I'd arrived, but I wanted to email her some photographs tonight.

The heat is stifling, but I take pictures of the streaming fountain, the elaborate gardens, and the inn itself. I've begun to notice that before I snap each photo my eyes involuntarily flash toward the back of the house.

Eerily, I feel like it beckons me…calling me into its intimidating pit, and for some absurd reason I'm fighting it. I recognize it as some sort of preservation mechanism, but I have no idea why it's happening. It's ridiculous. There are no external signs of being in danger, but as it continues to lure me there is no denying that I recoil even further into the safety of the freshly cut grass, and primped gardens of the front lawn.

"For christsakes, what is wrong with me?" I mutter under my breath.

Fighting instinct, I stride purposefully toward the sweeping darkness. I don't stop moving until I'm surrounded by the dense trees. I realize as I back up, leaning against a massive oak, with an ancient trunk wider than two of me, that I am panting helplessly for air. I'm exhausted for no other reason than pure adrenaline, and the fight-or-flight response that course through me in staggering measures.

In contrast to the front lawn, there is a coolness…a dampness that seeps into your bones, and a deathly quiet that can't be found on the opposite side of the house. As I catch my breath, I rub down my arms attempting to rid myself of the gooseflesh that has sprouted there. It's not that this place is scary, it's just so…_feral_, so untamed, so…

"…_not me_." I mutter, glumly.

And it's definitely not what I'm used to. The shadows and wispy squall send a shiver up my spine, and my nerves win out, as I run back to the inn.

The dinner bell rings just as I make my way up the deck steps. I realize that I haven't taken any pictures, so I turn, lifting the camera to my eyes, pausing as I peer through the lens, searching every angle to capture the perfect photo.

I pull the camera down and gaze, unfocused into the billowing terrain.

The revelation comes as no surprise. No picture I could take can do this justice, so I just let the shadows be, but as I walk back into the inn I'm determined somehow to use this newfound scene in my book.

I'll describe it in great detail, and as Emmett requested, it will be a story of mystery.

The aroma of Rosalie's meatloaf permeates the entire residence making my mouth water. Excitedly, I race back up to my room to put away my camera, wash up, and exchange my sweat-soaked t-shirt for a crisp button-up.

On my first day here I've found excitement, intrigue and a purpose.

The plot for my story is already brewing and I feel giddy as I wonder how much more this little town can aid my efforts in healing my heart and soul.

Walking into the dining area, filled with masculine conversation I realize I cannot wait to find out.

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><p>I'm very interested to know what you think of this first chapter. Does it sound like this little town might have just a bit more for Edward? Please drop me a line or two.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks so much to **leckadams** for purchasing this story, and then waiting forever for it.

Thanks to Layne Faire for doing an awesome beta job.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

I dash into the dining room, coming to an abrupt halt when I see a stranger sitting at the table. One look and I know exactly who he is.

Chin length blonde hair, blue eyes.

His hair isn't straight, but full of wavy curls, his eyes are darker, more of an ocean blue rather than that of the sky, but it has to be…

"Jasper, right?" I reach my arm out, and he stands up to his full height, clasping my extended hand in a firm grip. He's about an inch or so taller than my six feet. I also notice that his hand is large and calloused, but clean with a dusting of thin blond hair and trimmed nails.

"Yep. You must be Edward then?" He inquires. I swear that his eyes rove over me, but he averts his gaze so quickly that I'm not even really sure it occurred.

If it did happen, I can quickly discount any ulterior meaning behind it. It's completely normal to size someone up after you meet them.

As a matter of fact, as I take my seat across from Jasper, I happen to know he's wearing a fitted, thin black t-shirt and low ride, dark blue button-fly jeans, so I'm just as guilty of giving him a once-over as well.

Dinner is served, and conversation flows freely. Emmett tells me about his auto repair shop on the main street, growing up in Bon Terre, and mentions some of the sights and events that he thinks I should visit during my stay. Rosalie reminisces about her time at Northwestern with my sister, and then speaks of her and Jasper's childhood, telling various stories that embarrass Jasper to no end, drawing rosy blushes from his downcast face as he eats his food.

He remains silent throughout most of the meal, but does add to the conversation occasionally. When he speaks, his honeyed southern accent reverberates through me, leaving a pleasant buzz just underneath my skin.

I hadn't recognized how much I enjoy listening to Southerners speak.

I hope that maybe I can pick up a little of the accent while I'm here. I'm sure my students would get a kick out of that.

_But it isn't just the accent_.

I have a hard time swallowing my bite of meatloaf, a lump forming in my throat. I hadn't planned on admitting that, even to myself, but since it's out there, I look at Jasper and realize that it isn't just his accent that affects me.

Every time he smiles or laughs, my stomach clenches. His dimpled grin, rich laugh, and amused eyes seem so perfectly authentic. I suppose I'm envious that he's able to express his joy so easily. Whenever there's cause for a smile, I watch him surreptitiously, mesmerized by how a smile can light up someone's eyes so brightly.

God, I want that…

My body flushes with a burning heat.

I mean, I want to be that happy…not that I want _him_. Duh.

_Jesus_.

I give my head a mental shake, and attempt to refrain from looking at the man sitting across from me, but I have to admit that more than once our eyes collide. When they do connect, he looks confused, if not slightly frustrated.

I guess he doesn't like that I continue to stare at him. I can't seem to stop, and it frustrates me too. If I'm being truthful, he captivates me. I've never met anyone quite like Jasper. He's definitely the strong, silent type, but there's a quiet honesty about him.

He doesn't say much about himself, but when he does he's not timid about it. He is what he is, and again I feel a stab of jealousy at his confidence.

Despite my envy I can't help but feel a pull toward him. I feel like I _have_ to know him better. I want to be his friend, and I get the impression that he might need a friend just as much as I do.

Besides the various stories of Jasper's childhood I also learn that he went to college somewhere in his hometown, but only finished with an associate's degree, and that he currently does all the handiwork at the inn.

Unfortunately though, more than once, the emphasis falls on me, so I quietly tell them about my job, living in Chicago, and my sister. I try to keep it light, only talking about the positive aspects. I lower my eyes as I speak, but my skin prickles when I feel Jasper's attention directed on me.

He isn't going to want a friendship with me when he sees how weird I am. I can't even look at him without reacting in some odd way.

_God, why can't I just be normal_?

As I shovel the last morsel of Rosalie's pecan pie in my mouth l wonder where the time has gone. It's been almost two hours since we sat down for dinner. The meal was fantastic, and the company…amazing.

It's been such a long time since I felt this relaxed with someone, even with Alice I've clammed up. With the three of them, it's _almost_ effortless. I still had a difficult time talking about myself, but I was thoroughly entertained listening to all of their stories, and didn't feel uncomfortable or out of place at any time.

For the first time in almost a year, I don't want to flee to the safety of my lonesomeness. I'm actually loath for the night to end.

I want to learn more about the three of them…especially Jasper.

I wish he had talked more, but in all fairness, he constantly had food in his mouth. He consumed more of the meatloaf than Emmett and I combined. It makes me wonder where he puts it all, given the superb shape he's in.

Jasper isn't nearly as big as Emmett, but his arms are well-defined, his shoulders are wide and his taut chest tapers into a trim waist. His hips are narrow, the well-endowed bulge in between revealing he probably doesn't have any problem pleasing the ladies.

Shocked when I realize where I've been looking, my eyes dart up to his, hoping that he hasn't noticed. To my utter consternation, I find him staring straight at me, a smirk on his face. _Awesome_.

"Can I take your plate _Edward_?" Jasper asks, murmuring my name in a way I've never heard anyone else say before. The inflection leaves my cheeks warm.

I absently hand him my plate, trying to think of a valid excuse for my obvious perusal, so he doesn't think I was checking him out…in _that_ way.

Because I wasn't.

"Sorry, I must be really tired from all the traveling. I keep zoning out." He must believe me since his smirk slowly dies, and he nods stiffly. Without another word, he turns on his heel, entering the kitchen to dispose of our dirty dishes.

And all I want to do is call him back in here, and make him smirk like that again…and say my name like that again.

Deciding that my previous excuse _is_ valid, and my travelling _is_ disturbing my sanity, I figure it's probably a good thing that the meal is over.

Not used to being waited on, I grab my glass, and a platter from the center of the table to help clean up. As I approach the kitchen door I hear muffled voices. The closer I get to the door the more the sounds configure into words.

"I'm going to pick up a few things in town and then I have to get to work on Leah's crib. I've only got about four more weeks before the baby comes, so I can't be puttin' it off any longer."

_Jasper is having a baby? Why wasn't that mentioned during dinner?_

_C'mon, that's pretty big news isn't it?_

He doesn't wear a ring, so he's not married.

I pace outside the door. Unexpected agitation hits me hard and swift.

Why all of a sudden is my mood turning foul?

I bust through the kitchen door, not wanting to appear as if I was eavesdropping, but I'm not able to conceal my illogical burst of melancholy. "Here's a couple more…" I trail off.

Rosalie rushes over and takes the items from my hands. "Edward, you're a guest. You don't need to help clean up."

I just nod, keeping my head low. She drops them in the sink, before heading out to the dining room to fetch more dishes.

I feel like Jasper's looking at me. Actually, it feels like he's burning a hole in the side of my face, but I can't summon the courage to look up and see for myself. From my peripheral, I see him push his hands through his hair and turn away toward the sink, his movements seem choppy and distressed.

I look up then. His hands are splayed wide on the sink, his head slumping forward. Rosalie comes hustling back through the door, and Jasper quickly puts his hands in the soapy water, under the guise that he's washing dishes.

But we both know it's just a ruse to cover up the colossal awkwardness that I'm perpetrating. By being so entirely inept in even the simplest of social interactions, I'm shattering any residual likelihood of becoming friends with him.

Before I ruin the what's left of my chances, I claim what - _has to be_ - major fatigue and escape to my room.

Collapsing into the desk chair, I put my face into my palms, and quell the urge to scream out in frustration.

_What is wrong with me_? And more importantly, what does Jasper think of me?

Vowing to make up for my atrocious behavior tomorrow, I plug the camera into my laptop, and select several photos I want to send to Alice. I send her a quick email telling her briefly about my first day, and attach the pictures.

With the email sent, I blow out a huge breath and open Microsoft Word.

I'm way too jet-lagged and irritable to start my story today, but I type several notes, and a very rough outline of the plot I had concocted earlier.

It's almost midnight by the time I'm satisfied with what I've accomplished, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I get up from the chair, stretching and yawning simultaneously.

I stop on my way to the bed to peer out the window. There isn't much to see. There aren't any lights, only shadows of shadows, but a chill goes down my spine as I remember what I felt like out there earlier today…alive, awakened.

I realize that I want to be out there again.

But if it is that disturbing during the day I can't even imagine what it would be like out there right now.

Just as I'm about to turn away I see a flicker…a flame, and then a glow. I almost write it off as a lightning bug, until I notice a pattern. I deduce that it's the hots from a cigarette, and figure that it must be one of Rosalie's other guests.

And because I happen to be in the strangest mood ever, it kind of pisses me off that they're out there.

_Mine._

I chuckle; surprised at my possessiveness over a piece of land that doesn't even belong to me.

Too exhausted to analyze my craziness any further, I turn out the light, crawl under the warmth of the thick duvet and fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.

XXXXX

The next morning, I wake feeling rejuvenated from my uninterrupted sleep. It's the first time I've slept through the entire night since Bella indicated she wanted a divorce.

As they say, every day is a new beginning.

Happy that maybe I've finally taken my first step toward moving on, I start the day with a bounce in my step.

Since it's supposed to be in the ninety-degree range I decide the best course of action is to do as much sightseeing as I can in the morning, and forgo any outdoor activity in the afternoon. I put on a thin, gray t-shirt and navy khaki shorts. I snatch my camera and rush down the stairs, ready to start the day.

I stop short at the screen door when I see Jasper, with his tool belt hanging from his hips, mending a board on the porch step. Rosalie is leaning against the railing next to him, chatting it up. She says something that makes his head fall back and he laughs throatily.

The sound seeps into my pores, making me feel warm, a reflexive smile stretching wide across my face.

"Good morning," I greet, pushing open the screen door.

"Good mornin'," Rosalie chimes.

"Mornin'," Jasper mumbles, but doesn't look up from his work.

"Where are you off to so early?" Rosalie asks.

"I wanted to check out the town before it gets too hot."

"Yep. It's supposed to be a scorcher. I reckon you're dressed for the weather, though. F-Y-I, I usually have lunch ready by noon, but since it's gonna be hotter than the devil's balls today I've decided to make lunch a cold one. I'll be puttin' out some lunchmeat, my homemade potato salad, and some fresh fruit. If you're late we can just fix you up a plate when you get back."

"It sounds delicious." I comment, looking forward to a light, but appetizing lunch when I return.

"Oh it is. Jas can vouch for my potato salad." She nudges Jasper.

"Yeah, it's the best you'll ever have." He finally lifts his head, and his eyes make a swift journey up my body. He stops when his eyes reach my mouth, lingering there for a second before he falls back to his task.

"There are fresh muffins on the..." Is all Rosalie can say before I shoot back through the screen door, frantic to get away.

I hurry through the foyer, and lean both arms heavily on the back of one of the living room chairs. I take hefty breaths through parted lips, trying to calm my raging heart.

_A twitch_.

It had been unmistakable.

His look was innocent enough, I suppose. It's obvious he's straight…he's having a kid for godsakes. But there is no question that when Jasper perused my body, I twitched in my pants.

It's been so long since that's happened. I don't even remember when the last time…

_Holy shit_.

It's just been so long since I've been noticed by anyone, that my body overreacted is all. That has to be it.

My reasoning seems to have mollified me, because five minutes later I find myself once again gazing out the screen door, now with muffins in tow. Rosalie is nowhere to be found and Jasper is bent over, pulling a stubborn nail out of one of the boards of the deck.

This time, I don't risk dawdling as I bid Jasper a good day. He dittos the sentiment, and I take off toward town.

It's a long mile of rolling cornfields to reach the main strip in town, so I take that time to eat my muffin, while looking over the small map that Rosalie supplies for her guests at the inn. I choose my itinerary for the morning, which includes stopping by Emmett's shop.

I tuck the map in my pocket, refusing to spend anymore time contemplating what happened this morning.

XXXXX

The small town of Bon Terre is thriving in beauty and industry. Bright flowers are planted between the sidewalk and the road along the length of Main Street, and each storefront has colorful, eye-catching displays. The town's only stop-light separates East Main from West Main, where I'm told the two sides compete against each other in various activities at the Bon Terre Festival, including a customary sack race, and pie eating contest.

McCarty Auto Repair is located on the West edge of Main Street to allow for a bigger building and his own parking lot. Emmett's shop has a small office and three large bays, all of which are occupied by vehicles.

There isn't anyone in the office, but after wandering the garage for a minute or so, I finally find Emmett.

"Hey, Emmett." His upper body is buried in an old Chevy truck. His head pops out, and he gives me a welcoming smile.

"Hey, how's it goin' Edward? Checkin' out town?"

"Yep. I brought you something." I shuffle through my purchases for the small brown paper bag that holds two of Rosalie's homemade blueberry muffins. I extend the sack out to him and he eyes it curiously. He quickly steals a rag from the counter next to him, and wipes his greasy hands, before cautiously taking the muffins from me. When he looks in the bag his eyes widen, his wary smile replaced with a goofy grin.

"Awweessomme, Rosie only let me have one this mornin'. She said the rest were for the guests." He shrugs and rolls his eyes, then stuffs almost an entire muffin in his mouth.

"So, are you enjoyin' yourself?" He asks, after he swallows.

"Yeah, I picked up a couple of souvenirs for Alice and my neighbor, since she's watching my apartment." I say, lifting the bags in my hand as if needing to provide proof to support my statement.

I juggle the bags, and pull the map out of my pocket, frowning.

"But I just barely made it through Main Street. There are so many great shops here. I hadn't planned on stopping at so many of them. Now, it looks like I'm going to have to save the rest for another day." I look up at the sky, and Emmett's gaze follows in understanding.

"It's gonna get unbearable here real soon. Well, you're in no hurry, right? You got plenty of time to get through the rest of the town, as well as check out the plantations and other sights."

"Yeah." I agree, looking back down at the map. "Hey Emmett? What are these?"

I point to a small cluster of three marks on the map. They appear to be islands, and if they are, they're not too far off the mainland. I had wondered if they might be worth venturing out to.

He glances down at the map, as he stuffs the remainder of the second muffin in his mouth. He chokes a little, but once he recovers he says, "Oh, those aren't nothin'. Just a few small slivers of land, but they ain't got nothin' on 'em."

"Oh, okay." He's lived here his entire life – he would know. So, I can cross that off my list of excursions.

He takes the time to show me around his shop, introducing me to a couple of his employees.

"So, you must play all kinds of instruments bein' a teacher of 'em." Emmett remarks, as we make out way back to where I had found him.

"I play most of them decent. I'm better at some than others."

"Yeah? Well, Jasper plays the guitar. He's real good too. Maybe he can show you a thing or two before you be leavin'." He winks at me then.

I smile. _Maybe he can_.

His eyes flit to the truck he had been working on, and I know it's time for me to move on and let Emmett get back to work.

"Well, I should get going."

Sometime during my short visit with Emmett the temperature skyrocketed, and the sun beamings relentlessly in the cloudless sky.

"Y'wanna ride back?" Emmett asks.

"No, I'll manage. I like to walk." In reality, I would have preferred the ride, but I'd already taken up too much of his time.

While I start my route back to the inn, my mind wanders back to this morning, and yesterday's evening meal.

I don't know what to think of Jasper. I learned various things about him yesterday, but I have a sneaking suspicion that there's a lot more to him than that.

Well, obviously…

I still don't understand why he failed to mention the fact that he's expecting a kid in a month, or couldn't mention the mother of his child once.

But what stumps me the most is why I can't seem to let this go.

_Whatever_.

I resolve to think about this _or him_ no more.

It isn't my business, and I don't care.

It's as simple as that.

XXXXX

"So, you're having a kid, huh?"

I try to appear delighted about it, but I'm not really sure if he's going to buy it.

Jasper slams on the brakes, and pulls over to the side of the road.

"What?" He exclaims incredulously. His blue eyes are wide, and serious.

Jasper had been driving down the street shortly after I left Emmett's shop, and he offered me a lift back to the inn. I was more than thankful, and I'm not sure if it was for the heat, or for the chance to spend more time with him that I happened to be most grateful for. I hadn't even strapped myself in before I blurted out the question, causing my resolution from only minutes ago to go up in flames.

"I heard you…tell Rosalie last night about building…a…crib…" I trail off stupidly, each word sounding more moronic than the next.

He pulls a cigarette out of his front pocket, and lights up. He takes a long, thick drag, staring out the front windshield. "So, you were eavesdroppin'?"

"No…no," I quickly deny, begging for his understanding. "I was just bringing dishes in…and I overheard, just before I came through the door. I may have hesitated, but it wasn't my intention to eavesdrop. I swear I didn't mean to listen." I plead, desperately.

My answer seems to placate him, and he finally looks at me. His blue eyes search mine, and I let him, holding his gaze steadily and unguarded, letting him see whatever he wants.

His eyes never stray, continuing to bore into me. "No Edward. I can assure you that I haven't gotten any women pregnant." He breaks our connection, looking out the side window.

"I'm buildin' the crib for Leah and Paul, their friends of mine. Their first child is due at the start of the month." He explains, tiredly.

"Oh. I sincerely apologize for assuming." My hand reaches out to touch his arm, but I catch it just inches from his skin, and pull back. I don't even remember the last time I touched someone purposefully, but I really want him to understand my regret.

He hadn't noticed, still looking out the window. His frame relaxes slightly, but it bothers me that he still won't look at me.

"It's okay. I'm glad you said somethin' to me instead of Rose. She would have popped her top if you told her I was havin' a kid." He chuckles, flashing me his dimples. I let out a relieved laugh, thankful that he's willing to be so light-hearted about it.

He hasn't moved back onto the surface road, and I don't mind. I find it very calming sitting here with him like this. I watch as he takes another hit from his cigarette, and follow as the smoke drifts fluidly through the open window. I usually don't like the smell of smoke, but it doesn't seem to be bothering me right now, which makes me wonder...

"Were you outside last night…um, in the backyard, about midnight?" I ask.

His eyebrows rise in silent question.

He's probably wondering if he can add stalking to my list of offenses against him, along with the eavesdropping…and the assuming…and the staring…and the twitching…_ugh_.

I shrug, nonchalantly. "I looked out the window before I went to bed last night and saw what looked like a cigarette out there."

"Yeah, that would have been me." He answers, cagily. He throws his smoke out the window, and puts the truck into gear, pulling back onto the road.

I must already seem nosy enough, so I'm disinclined to ask why he'd been out there, but it doesn't extinguish the flames of curiosity that burn in my gut. I'd really like to know why, because I've already deemed the backyard of Rosalie's place as my favorite spot in Bon Terre so far.

There's also the question of where he goes so late at night, but it doesn't seem like he's willing to divulge any information about his whereabouts.

The rest of the ride is silent. Jasper seems deep in thought, so I'm left alone with my own musings.

I still don't know if Jasper has a girlfriend, but I'm inordinately pleased to hear that he's not having a baby.

My world seems to have righted itself, and even though Jasper didn't stick around after he dropped me off, I was often found smiling by the others for the rest of the day.

XXXXX

To my dismay, Jasper doesn't show up for dinner the next five nights, but evenings are bustling at the inn. I finally met the two couples that had already been here when I'd arrived and the couple that had arrived the same night as me.

Angie and Ben, a young unmarried couple from Forks, Washington, had arrived the same night I had. Jessica and Eric, from Wichita, Kansas had just married a year ago, and are celebrating their first anniversary. The two young couples have taken to each other, so they do almost everything together. They usually sit at the opposite end of the table during meals.

They seem nice enough, but I mainly converse with Rosalie and Emmett, as well as the middle-aged couple, Renee and Charlie. They've been here for over a month now, and are getting ready to leave next week. Renee tells me that they've been coming to the Stormy Haven Inn every year since Rosalie opened up six years ago. Each year they stay longer, enjoying the serenity of Bon Terre.

They're from New York City, so after they ribbed me for being the 'little brother', we got along great. Since we are from big cities, there are a lot of things we have in common. I enjoy their company, and I've become a solid contributor to any conversation, but I've climbed back into my shell a bit, worried a little more with each passing day, that I may have scared Jasper away permanently with our last encounter.

I can no longer deny that, even though I'm having a great time, it hasn't been as exciting as it was when Jasper had been around.

It had become clear to me on the second night that Jasper hadn't shown up for dinner that I'm obsessing over the man. I grasped the magnitude of my preoccupation with him after I read back the latest chapter of my book.

Somehow Jasper Hale has unwittingly become the main character of my story.

Obviously, his name isn't Jasper, but as I read through my description of 'Jeremy Whitlock', the enigmatic Sheriff of small town, Halfway, Indiana, he more than resembles Jasper. He _is_ Jasper.

Or at least how I define Jasper.

Jeremy is lone soul, but powerful and magnetic. He's rough around the edges, but smart, and funny. Everyone wants to be his friend, and every woman wants to claim him, but he prefers to keep company with his family and only a few special friends.

Because when Jeremy gives you his friendship, it means he would die for you. He's a heartthrob, of course. With his blond curls, piercing blue eyes, and killer smile, he certainly has his choice of available – and unavailable - women if he so desired.

After 20,000 words Jeremy still hasn't hooked up with anyone, but I know I'll have to get to that sooner rather than later. I've been stalling because I want his co-star, his love, to be someone…_extraordinary_, and all of the characters I've created so far aren't living up to those expectations.

I sigh, closing my laptop for the night. I amble over to the window and peer out, begging to see a red hot glow. My eyes get jumpy and blur while I stare into the blackness of the night, but I continue to gawk until my eyes become crossed.

I clamber into bed, feeling sullen and lonely.

Before I fall asleep, I debate on actually searching him out tomorrow instead of waiting for him to come to me. Now that he's become my Jeremy, I need to do more research on his character.

_Well, isn't that just a fine excuse_?

The random thought leaves me unsettled. Again, I steer clear of exploring why I keep having thoughts like that.

I also wonder how long I can keep avoiding the questions in my own mind about my _true_ interest in Jasper.

That anxiousness continues into the night, and sleep doesn't come easy. I toss and turn fitfully.

Minutes pass, pillows tumble to the floor, and sheets tangle with restless limbs.

I wake up, twisted and sweaty. I unravel the covers from around myself, so I can get a glass of water for my parched throat. My back and neck ache, while I stumble clumsily through a room I haven't memorized in the dark yet. I glance at the clock on my way to the bathroom…almost midnight.

I've hardly slept at all.

After my thirst is quenched, I scramble back to bed, but not before I take another look out the window. It's becoming an unsatisfyingly bad habit, but I can't seem to stop what is rapidly becoming some sort of reflex. I start to chastise myself, but I see it…

The red flame.

_He's out there._

I don't know what compels me to do it. I don't put on a shirt…or shoes. I just run.

Run down the stairs and out the back door.

I don't know what I'll do…or say, when I get to him, but sense is not driving me at this moment. I fly out the door and down the deck steps. I falter when I'm consumed by that same heady feeling I get every time I find myself on this side of the house, but the thought of seeing Jasper again leads me blindly through the darkness.

A few feet into the backyard, I don't see the flicker anymore. It's gone.

_Dammit_.

I must have missed him by moments. I can call out, I know he'd hear me if I did, but I can't risk waking any of the other houseguests, as well as Rosalie or Emmett, and I also can't risk the fact that he could just ignore me, which is perfectly conceivable. He obviously doesn't crave my company like I do his. Otherwise, he would have come around this week.

_Jesus Christ_.

It'll have to wait, but I'll be goddamned if he slips through my fingers even one more day. I'm more determined than ever to get closer to Jasper, and when I do _I will_ discover where he disappears to every night.

Once the thrill of possibly seeing Jasper tonight dissipates, my breath stutters when I realize that I've never come out here after the sun has gone down. The wind whirls around me, the leaves rustle. The coolness of the night attacks my body, deluging my heated skin with an icy bite.

Under the dense trees the moon and stars aren't visible. I'm disoriented by the blackest night I've ever been witness to, and my sense of direction is fallible. It takes several moments before I realize that I'm not moving toward the inn, but away from it.

I can feel the crunching of fallen twigs underneath my bare feet, and I keep walking deeper, until I'm totally surrounded by nothingness. My eyes should have adjusted by now, but fear clouds my vision, and all I can do is _feel_. So, I hold my hands straight out, trying to touch…anything.

My chest constricts, making breathing harsh. The cold air stings my lungs.

I just feel like…God! This space…it frightens me. I feel so exposed and vulnerable. I automatically wrap my arms around my waist, and shut my eyes focusing on the lightheaded feeling I've never known before.

I thought once before that this terrain is scary because I'm so unlike everything it represents, and it's so true.

I'm like the front yard. Regimented, manicured…_strangled_.

This space…when I'm back here…I feel like something inside of me is about to let loose, it's so close to the surface…finally ready to be set free.

I can't wait for it to happen. I want it to happen.

I open my arms wide, and turn around in a circle, straining to breath steadily, willing for whatever is imminent to just happen already.

I shut my eyes, keep walking…testing fate…and I don't stop until my feet hit something, almost making me go down.

I open my eyes, to see where the wind has swept me, and I find myself at the steps, facing the inn.

I could cry.

A shiver runs through me, and I realize that I'm way too underdressed to be out here.

I halfheartedly climb the stairs, like a pouty child.

I don't understand exactly what is going on here…but whatever it is - I _do_ want it.

Before I open the door to the inn I turn and take one last, longing look behind me.

I want it _so_ bad.

* * *

><p>So, what are you thinking?<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Lauren (leckadams)** rocks!

There were a couple of reviews I couldn't reply to because they don't allow PM's, so thank you to **Hot4Chuck** and **Kristen618** for your kind words.

**Layne Faire** is my beta, and she's absolutely fabulous.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. All places, landmarks and sights are figments of my imagination. That means don't plan any trips to Bon Terre, because even it exists, Jasper doesn't really live there.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

It's a sunny, seventy-two degree morning in Bon Terre. The scanty breeze is soothing and peaceful, as I relax on the porch swing – waiting patiently.

I'm scarfing down my second cinnamon-apple muffin, almost able to feel my jeans stretching tighter around my waist with each morsel consumed. I'm convinced I've gained at least five pounds since I've been exposed to Rosalie's mad culinary skills. I'm thankful for all the walking I've done, but I need to start utilizing the fitness equipment downstairs…or else, buy a new wardrobe.

I advised Rosalie this morning that she could make a killing selling her muffins, but she alleges her recipe is a dime a dozen around here. I hardly believe that, but she swears the secret is the White Lily flour. Apparently, us Northerners don't know that the stuff makes everything taste shamefully sinful; it's like some miracle ingredient.

While I'm licking the sticky remains from my fingers, the object of my fascination saunters from the back of the house, across the lawn, to one of the massive gardens at the front edge of the estate.

_He can't avoid me now_.

I don't waste any time in pursuing him. Reaching Jasper, he doesn't notice me right away, so I seize these few precious moments to study him without being observed. _He looks tired_. His stubbled cheeks look slightly sunken, there are shadows under his eyes, and his movements seem sluggish.

Not to mention he looks like he's a million miles away.

That theory is proven when he glances over, and is startled by my presence.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." I explain, shyly. The pink of his cheeks become contagious, as I feel my own face heat.

He quickly lowers his eyes to begin pulling weeds. "What're you doin' here? I thought everyone went to the farmer's market this morning." His tone is pleasant enough, but his amiability is belied by the way he begins viciously tugging at the weeds.

"I didn't feel like it." I shrug, answering irritably. It annoys me that he seems to be avoiding me on purpose, choosing to do this task when he thought I wouldn't be around. I just want to get to know him, and he's doing everything in his power to make it impossible.

_Well, too bad_.

Like the stubborn mule I can be, his attitude only urges me to uncover, and possibly correct, whatever his issue is with me.

Actually, I wouldn't have minded the trip into town to check out the local goods, but I thought it'd be a perfect opportunity to accost Jasper with everyone else being away from the inn for a couple of hours. Rosalie almost didn't go when I told her I wouldn't be taking the field trip with the rest of them, but after some insistence from me, and some resistance from her, she conceded.

After missing Jasper by minutes, if not seconds, last night I vowed that I wouldn't go another day without seeing him. I realized in order to accomplish that, it may take drastic measures, and I fully planned on 'accidentally' stumbling upon his cabin, if it had been necessary.

I'm so glad it didn't come to that. I wouldn't have felt comfortable ambushing Jasper in his own home, knowing the importance I place on the sanctity of my own apartment.

"Would you mind if I helped?" I ask, hopeful.

"Rose would have my hide if she came back to see I'd put you to work." He speculates, quite accurately.

"Can I just sit with you then?" I question, not willing to give in.

"Okay." He appears anything but okay. I overlook the fact that he seems less than thrilled that I'm here, taking a seat next to him on the cool turf.

The tension is palpable, and I'm not experienced in easing strained atmospheres, so I begin with something I know. "Emmett told me you play the guitar."

"He did, did he?" He answers absently, while continuing to pulverize the weeds.

"Yeah, he said you were good – that maybe you could teach me something."

He snorts, "Doubt it. I don't have much time to play anymore."

"Oh. So, _maybe_…_I_ can teach _you_ something then." I'm stunned by my own brazenness, but if I have any confidence at all, it's in my ability to play, and to teach.

He looks at me then, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Silence reigns for about three seconds, before he bursts out laughing.

When he catches his breath he rewards me with a wide dimpled grin. "Maybe you can, Edward…_maybe_."

And so the ice is broken.

I know he probably won't be willing to share much without some coaxing on my part, so I do my best to squash my own inhibitions, hoping to encourage him to talk more about himself.

I tell him about all the instruments I play, but the piano is by far my favorite. He then tells me that when his grandpa passed away, he had inherited his Gibson acoustic. He'd only been ten at the time, but his grandpa had been teaching him how to play it for years.

Emboldened by the exchange of our stories, I divulge more about me.

I explain what it was like growing up with two surgeons for parents, the extreme pressure I felt to follow in their footsteps, which only increased after Alice had admitted to them that she wanted to go to school for design. I think they felt I was their last hope. Unfortunately, I have no stomach for blood. My parents hadn't been overjoyed when I told them about my career choice, but they learned to accept it.

In return for my confession, I learn that he and Rosalie came from a broken home. His mom had been pregnant with him, and Rosalie was just shy of two years old when their dad up and left the state. He admits to me how hard it was for him to take on the responsibility of being the man of the house when he was just a boy that wanted to play with cars, build forts, and ride his bike.

His mom hadn't remarried until Jasper was fifteen. His mom and step-dad still live in Baton Rouge, but they spend a few weeks during Christmas and Easter at the inn.

He also talks about what he does for a living. Apparently, Jasper does home repairs for not only Rosalie, but also most of the townsfolk in Bon Terre. However, his passion seems to lie in woodworking.

He builds custom cabinetry and furniture, and he's contemplating starting his own business one day, but doesn't know where to establish it.

That's when it hits me just how talented he really is.

"You made my desk?" I ask in awe, but amend quickly, "I mean, Rosalie's desk, but the one in the room I'm occupying."

"Yeah." He says quietly. "I made that piece for them when they got married."

"Jas, it's a masterpiece. The carving…it's amazing." I realize too late that I've called him a shortened, more intimate version of his name - a name that I've only heard his sister call him previously.

I'm not sure if it's how I said his name, or the compliments I gave him about his skill, but his cheeks turn a rosy pink.

He clears his throat, noticeably uncomfortable, then asks how my book is coming along, effectively removing him from the spotlight.

I make a mental note that another one of Jeremy's characteristics will be humility.

I tell him very little about the plot, informing him that he'll have to buy the book if he wants to know. He guffaws, but then turns serious in a heartbeat.

He keeps his hands busy with weeds, and his eyes are way too focused on what he's doing. "You're spendin' a lot of time with us, don't you have a girl back home waitin' on ya?"

"No…no, I don't." I croak, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.

Jasper freezes for a moment, and then huffs.

He pulls back abruptly, sitting on his heels. He finally looks at me for the first time…and does he_ ever_. His eyes drill into mine…probing, penetrating…and there it is, the damn twitching again. Once, and then twice, and now I have excuse myself because I feel myself start to harden under the scrutiny of his gaze.

I plead hunger, and ask if he'd like me to bring him anything. He seems disappointed with my reaction, but says he's fine.

"I'll see ya, then." He dismisses me, as he turns his attention back to tending to the garden.

There is a war inside of me. I don't know what to do. I don't want to go because I'm afraid that he'll vanish again and that I won't see him for another week, if not more. However, I'm sporting a semi that just won't go away, and I don't want to embarrass myself if he happens to notice it twitch again, or God forbid, become fully erect.

"Will you be coming to dinner tonight?" I ask, almost too desperately. Part of me hopes that he can hear the pleading in my voice, and that he won't be able to say 'no'.

"I don't know what I've got goin' on. Maybe..." He shrugs.

"Okay, well, maybe I'll see you later?" I wait for him to confirm or deny, but he does neither. It's a struggle to turn my body, to walk away from him. Each step feels like a mistake, and not knowing if I'll see him again any time soon saddens me.

I resist palming my cock while I walk back to the inn, cursing its interruption from what had been turning out to be an excellent conversation. Apparently, I've been neglecting my needs for too long, so my dick has decided to rear its ugly head – literally.

I shut the door to my room and lock it, something I seldom do. I sit in my desk chair, close my eyes, and trace the tips of my fingers reverently over the etched pattern on the desk.

_Jasper_.

It shouldn't surprise me that someone with his intensity could create a piece as elaborate and stunning as this.

It seems like opening up to him had been a success in convincing him to loosen his own tongue. I can't believe I told him so much about my past. I haven't shared the fear I carried of disappointing my parents with my career choice with anyone, but it had been worth every story I received from Jasper in return.

He is a man of few words, though he manages to pack a lot of meaning into each one of them.

I power up the laptop to insert more notes about Jeremy's character. I not only add humility, but also charismatic and passionate, to his personality traits.

After about fifteen minutes I realize there isn't any way I can put it off any longer.

It hasn't softened, like it normally would have after being ignored this long, so I pull up the Internet to randomly pick one of the free videos on X-tube. I won't pay for porn, since I very rarely ever need it.

I've selected a video with two lesbian women. They're decent looking, so I'm hopeful that this will get the job done fairly quickly. My semi is still hanging around; if I'm lucky I'll already be halfway done, since actually getting hard is one of the problems I've always seemed to have.

As the video I chose is loading, I remove my shirt and pants, tossing them into the hamper. I leave my socks and underwear on, merely pulling my boxers over my shaft and balls. I sit in the desk chair and hit 'play'. I spit on my hand for lube, taking hold of my cock in a firm grip.

Almost bored, I stroke myself while watching the two girls play with each other's tits and pussies. After ten minutes, I start to feel tired and figure maybe this isn't going to happen. I almost stop, but I don't want to continue to twitch and get hard at the most inopportune times. It seems like every time Jasper and I are getting to know each other, we're interrupted by my body's needs.

So, I forget about the girls and just shut my eyes, determined to find a release. I focus solely on the feelings. With my free hand I massage my pebbled nipples, surprised when I almost cry out after pinching one of the sensitive nubs.

My hand quickens; my fingertips graze over my rib cage to the flat of my belly that quivers under my touch. I rub my tightening stomach, where desire rumbles, like a quiet thunder just before a hurricane.

_Goddammit_. I need this more than I thought I did.

My head falls back on the chair and my hips begin to move, attempting to match the pace of my unsteady hand. Milky cum escapes in a high velocity pre-cum spurt, pouring out and dribbling in between my fingers, as I pump feverishly. The slurping noises of my cock screwing my wet fist finally pulls me over the edge, and I unload for the first time in almost three months, wringing a guttural groan past my dry lips.

I open my eyes, grimacing when I see the girls still working each other over, ruining what remains of my post-coital bliss. Grossed out, I quickly shut it down.

That seems to have used up my supply of energy, and so after I clean up and dispense of the tissues, I lie down, falling into a deep sleep in a matter of moments.

XXXXX

When I come down for dinner I'm elated to see Jasper there, seated between Jessica and Charlie. I find the seat directly across from him still available, and I steal it out from under Renee, forcing her to sit inbetween Eric and Angie. I'm not happy with the arrangement at all, wondering why the two younger couples had finally decided to play musical chairs on a day Jasper finally shows up to eat with us.

But, it's hard to be too upset when Jasper is looking directly at me.

"Evenin', Edward." His voice is like warmed molasses, smooth and low.

Of course, I'd given Jeremy the same southern drawl. He might be the sheriff of Halfway, Indiana, but Jeremy comes from more southern roots.

"Hi, Jasper. Did you have a good day?" I murmur, shyly.

He chuckles, smiling that disarming, wide, dimpled grin. "It was fair. I didn't get as much done as I was expectin' to. I had a sudden urge to take a nap, and slept longer than I should have." He finishes with a wink.

He glances toward the other end of the table, then lowers his head, taking an abrupt interest in his food. I turn to see what he'd been looking at in time to see Rosalie watching him carefully. When she notices me, she gives me a small smile. Her eyes flick to Jasper once more before they return to her own meal.

_What is that about_?

Maybe Jasper was supposed to do something for her today that he didn't get done because of his unexpected need for sleep. What a coincidence that he took a nap today, too.

I dig in, trying to eat with a smile plastered to my face.

The dining room is exuberant this evening with everyone telling stories, joking and just enjoying each other's company. I wish I could speak more with Jasper, but it seems rude to exclude everyone from the rest of the conversation.

It's not long after supper is over that the two younger couples prepare to leave for the movies. Each week, from April to October, the drive-in theatre partakes in different themes. Movies play Thursday through Sunday, but on Friday and Saturday they have double features.

They do play newer films, but I've noticed most of the movies they play are classics. This week's theme is horror, and they're playing 'The Omen I and II' tonight.

The first Omen scared the shit out of me so badly, I had no desire to the sequel. Although, I do wonder if it would still seem as terrifying now. Jessica asks me if I want to join them, but I decline since Jasper is still here.

Charlie and Renee begged off earlier citing that they had an exhausting day. The heat had flared even higher than normal, taking its toll on Renee.

Rosalie convinces Jasper to forgo his plans for the evening and stay with us.

I am overjoyed, to say the least.

We go downstairs, have a few beers, and play a couple rounds of pool, before sitting down at the card table to play Euchre.

Jasper's my partner, and we're having such a great time. He's a sneaky bastard. Toward the end of the third game I catch him stacking the deck, and I join in his antics. We smoke them a couple of games before they realize what we're doing, causing Rosalie to promptly put an end to our shenanigans.

Liquor is flowing, and I can't help but wonder if it's the reason that Jasper is being overly friendly…not that I'm complaining.

We are in the midst of our sixth game when Rosalie asks me the same question Jasper had asked earlier: Do I have a girl waiting for me back home?

"No, I don't," I repeat my earlier response. Jasper's looking at his cards, but his lips twitch.

"I don't believe ya Edward. Don't be lyin' to me now. You're way to good-lookin' to be single," she insists.

"Yeah, Edward, you're way too good-lookin' to be single," Emmett teases, reaching over to pinch my cheek. I swipe his hand away, but blow him a kiss, which he pretends to catch, and fawn over.

Everyone laughs at our exchange, but I still don't see anyway that I can avoid the subject.

"To be honest, my divorce just became final, so I haven't been single for long," I admit.

Its Jasper's turn to either pass or call trump, so I look to see what he's going to do. He's studying his cards intently, the lines around his eyes tight, confusing me.

"Pass," he says stiffly, not looking in my direction.

We continue to play, but the mood has definitely shifted after my declaration. Rosalie and Emmett begin to show signs of fatigue, while Jasper is just acting…weird.

So, after the final hand of that series, it's no surprise that the game breaks up. Jasper barely glimpses at me before he's gone, leaving me feeling extremely bewildered and depressed.

XXXXX

"_Jeremy saunters confidently into the local saloon, his black Stetson sitting low and surreptitious on his brow. Every eye falls upon his wiry frame when he saddles up the bar, propping one foot on the bottom rung of the barstool, while the other long, muscular leg stretches out in front of him. He orders a whiskey straight, and after several slow minutes, removes his hat, letting everyone catch their first glimpse of the new Sherriff in town... _

_The men grumble, and the women gasp."_

It's been two weeks since our card game, and I've seen naught of Jasper…at least not during the day. According to Rosalie, he's taken a job building an extravagant bar with custom cabinetry in a home just outside of town. He's been there morning until night to get the work done in time for a party the homeowners are having in the following month.

Yet, every evening, I watch for the sign that Jasper is in the backyard, and it hasn't failed me. I've been tempted to go out there again, to catch him before he disappears for the night, but the way in which he left our card game repeatedly forestalls me.

I don't know what I did…or what I continue to do. It seems like every time I have an encounter with Jasper, I screw things up even more. Sometimes, I think I'm just better off to leave him be.

It hurts to just walk away from what could be a great friendship, but it has to be a two-way street, and so far I'm driving down a lonely dead end road.

As Rosalie had said, people have come and gone. I barely learn their names before they've left, since most days I stay sequestered in my room, knowing Jasper won't make an appearance.

I'm getting a lot of my story written. I'm up to 150 pages, but the storyline is growing dark and intense. It isn't the direction I'd planned on, and I know my frame of mind is the cause.

I need to get out of this room.

I walk down the stairs to find one of the couples lounging in the living area. The woman is striking, with strawberry blond hair and lime green eyes. Her husband is more average looking, but he's built tough, like a body builder or wrestler.

"Hey, Edward? Right?" The redhead inquires.

"Yeah…um, I'm sorry…" I shrug helplessly, her name eluding me.

"Oh, don't worry about it. We only met once…like a week ago, and I don't think we've even seen you since then. I'm Tanya, this is Dmitri," she states, pointing to her mate. "We were just getting ready to head down to the Bon Terre Annual Festival. You're more than welcome to come along."

I'd been told the weeklong celebration had started this week, but I've been too busy being a hermit to join in on the festivities.

Rosalie appears in the doorway. "Edward, you should go on. They're havin' a music competition tonight at the high school. Most of the participants are gonna be young'uns." She turns to Tanya and Dmitri, offering an explanation, "Edward teaches music in Chicago."

"Oh, what grade level do you teach?" Tanya asks, seemingly interested.

"High school students." I battle to keep the discontent out of my voice.

"Oh, that sounds like a fun job," she supposes.

"Yeah." And I leave it at that. I don't inform them that I had found my dream job, but it's turned out to be just one more disappointment that I've had to cope with.

But regardless, I feel excitement bubble, eager to see what the kids here have to offer.

"Yeah, I'll tag along if you guys don't mind."

Rosalie's smile looks suspiciously like relief, causing me to make a mental note to get out of my room more often.

XXXXX

I'm astounded at the talent presented during the course of the competition. Bon Terre's young and old filed on the stage in the town's high school auditorium, their voices, instruments, and pride on display for the community.

From an older gentleman singing George Strait's 'Baby Blue', to an eight-year-old girl singing and playing the piano in a touching version of Evanescence's 'My Immortal', dedicating her performance to her mama in Heaven, there isn't a dry eye in the audience.

I'm also surprised to see instruments that I'd only read about in the past, like a cigar box fiddle, and a 'Button Box'.

Many of these kids have genuine talent. With nurturing and practice, I can definitely see them taking it to the next level, and more importantly, this community cherishes their musically inclined. The auditorium is packed, the applause deafening, while each person gives all they have into their performances.

That was my dream when I started college. As children, Alice and I were brought up surrounded by music, but of the two of us, I'm the only with natural ability. My voice isn't the greatest, but it's gotten me by. My bread and butter comes from my playing. I started with piano at the age of four, but quickly realized my talents extended to most other instruments as well.

My dream was to assist kids in fostering their talent, to help them grow into their capabilities. When I received my teaching degree, I'd immediately been offered the opportunity to be the music teacher at a high school in an upscale area of Chicago. I thought I'd hit the jackpot.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long to understand that the students had long ago given up any dreams of being a musician. Most of the kids that have any raw talent are either into sports, or too consumed with their academic studies to be bothered with something they only consider a hobby - at best.

Sebastian, one of my past students, has that rare talent. I struggled for months to get him to see his potential. It was arduous, his adolescent mind flip-flopping on a daily basis, but eventually, I made him see all he could be. I tutored him in the classroom during the summer, watching while he flourished into quite a musician, but as summer drew to a close, and he had other obligations, the poor boy felt the pressure.

One day I received an angry call from Sebastian's father, telling me to "_butt out of his life_" and "_Sebby isn't going to be able to pay the bills playing that stupid violin, he needs to practice his football. That's where the money's at_". I reminded him that his son plays a cello, and not a violin, but before I could explain the difference between the two, he hung up on me.

Sebastian dropped my class that following Monday, but stopped in to apologize for his dad's behavior. He seemed distraught over the choices his father made for him, but there hadn't been anything I could do about it.

And that's just the way it's been; my class has become an easy elective.

The problem is, I care about what I do. It isn't just about earning a paycheck for me.

Before the end of the school year, I requested a transfer to an elementary school. I still have hope, believing that maybe, if I start with younger kids, they'll have more time to hone their skill, and their parents will be more receptive to their learning to play.

After the contest is over, I find Tanya and Dmitri to let them know I'm heading back. They offer to drive me, but I tell them that I prefer the walk.

While I walk along the dimly lit road, my loneliness creeps up on me, tears stinging my eyes. What had started out as a nice evening crashed and burned, becoming just another reminder of how pathetic my life has become.

How the hell did my life get so screwed up? How did I become such a mess? I'm stuck in this rut with no idea how to climb out of it.

A truck drives by, and for a moment I think it's Jasper, being the same make and model, but the tailgate has stickers all over it and Jasper's doesn't.

A small hiccupping sob escapes me, and I bury my head in my hands, continuing to stumble forward along the gravely shoulder.

_Where did I go wrong with him? _

I've never tried so hard to be someone's friend before; it hurts that he keeps pushing me away.

_I just don't know what I did._

I thought we were on our way to being friends…that he actually liked me. We seemed to get along so well, but then I mention my divorce, and he becomes distant again, disappearing for weeks. I know he's got the work doing that basement, but the job shouldn't keep him away from dinner every single night for the last two weeks. He's not a machine. He needs a break.

I know I'm not the best judge of character, but he doesn't seem like the type that would judge me for my divorce, especially when he doesn't know the circumstances.

I arrive at the inn, looking through the many lit windows at all the spirited activity inside. Ashamed of my pity party, I don't want to go in yet for fear the signs of my distress still visibly streak across my cheeks.

According to my watch, it's almost ten-thirty, and I realize that it won't be long before Jasper takes off for wherever the hell he goes at night.

I almost change my mind twice, turning and retreating a couple of steps, before my resolve turns me again toward my destination. Once I get to the back of the house, I lean against my favorite oak…and sliding down the trunk, I gather my knees to my chest.

From what I can see, there are no lights on in Jasper's cabin, but I'm confident he won't be giving up his evening ritual.

_He'll be here…and so will I._

I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. Good things aren't just going to fall in my lap. I need to create my own opportunities.

So, I sit…and I wait.

I'm not sure how long I sit before I hear the scuffing of boots on rocks and snapping twigs. I peek around the trunk of the tree to see the silhouette of a man…_Jasper_.

I watch his curls blow around his head with the exhilarating squall that only the backyard seems to provide. It's like a torpedo surrounding him, but he doesn't seem to be shaken by it, in fact it looks like it's a part of him. He takes a few steps toward me, and I get the chance to see his face when he lights his cigarette, cupping the flame with his hand until it's lit…and as his face illuminates, it causes my breath to catch.

I don't want to admit that the one word that comes to my mind is 'beautiful', but I won't waste a second wondering if that's okay, or what the hell's wrong with me, because what's even more shocking is noticing Jasper looking up at my window.

So I'm paralyzed, entranced, because every time he takes a drag from his smoke, his eyes raise, watching my window.

He's looking at _my_ room.

"Fuck this shit," he mutters, stomping out his cigarette with the heel of his boot.

He heads toward the motorboat. An unknown force, like the gust that chased Jasper to my window, pulls me to my feet. I stand up - a mile tall and full of vibrant energy, feeling braver and stronger than I have in a very long time.

"Are you looking for me?"

* * *

><p>Ed is getting braver. I wonder if he's ready to face the truth. You tell me what you think, and I'll tell you what I think.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Lauren (**leckadams**) is the bomb for buying this story and giving to such a great cause.

**Layne Faire** is the beta with super skills.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"_Are you looking for me?"_

The words have been spoken, too late for me to take them back, and I don't want to. So, I step forward, pushing myself away from the tree, moving closer to him…determined.

Jasper whips around at the sound of my voice, shocked into silence, I suppose. Maybe we both are, since we merely stare at each other's shadows. I watch his chest rise and fall, knowing he's breathing just as hard as I am. I approach ever so slowly…cautiously, taking careful, even steps, allowing him time to adjust to my ambush.

I'm just a few feet away, and I'm finally able to examine his features. He's agitated and upset, but he's controlling his emotions through clenched fists and a cement jaw.

"What are you doin' here Edward?" he hisses through gritted teeth.

"I want to know where you go at night," I demand…as if I have a right to know, but this situation doesn't warrant logic…not when I _need_ to know.

He's visibly taken aback by my audaciousness. "It's none of your business," he replies insolently.

"Is it a woman?" I rasp.

"It's none of your business," he repeats, but then adds a quiet, "no."

"Take me with you."

I should be able to hear his jaw grind, from the look of how tightly he's clenched it shut.

We face off, staring at each other, but I won't give an inch. I won't give up.

After a moment, I think he comprehends the extent of my resolve. His stiffened shoulders deflate, leaving him appear defeated.

"No," he whispers.

"Why not? I thought we were becoming friends."

He snorts at that, angering me, so I decide to call him out on his change of heart. If he supplies a legitimate reason, I'll have no other choice but to simply leave him alone.

"Tell me Jasper. What about my divorce seems to bother you? You were fine with me before then, so what's changed?"

He swivels around, taking a couple of long paces to reach the boardwalk, and I figure he's just going to leave me standing here, without the courtesy of an answer. I stagger forward one step, prepared to beg him for the explanation I feel I deserve, but before I can verbalize my thoughts, he turns back, crossing the lawn in swift angry strides, not stopping until he's in my face.

"Friends?" He gasps, bitterly. "You thought we were _friends_? But you didn't think I should know that you're recently divorced? Or that you'd even been _married_?" He asks, spitting out the last word.

"We talked _all_ about our fuckin' pasts, Edward…please tell me why that bit of information never came up?"

I'm stunned, and I don't know if it's because Jasper's face is inches from mine, that I can feel puffs of his breath along my cheek, that I can feel his body heat…

…or am I shocked stupid because I've just realized I hadn't mentioned Bella on purpose?

_I hadn't wanted him to know about her_.

I immediately blame it on the fact that I didn't want him to know of my failure. It's easier to think of that than any of the other possibilities of why I'd exclude her from our previous conversations.

I lash out before my thoughts give way to entertaining those possibilities.

"Why does it matter to _you_? Yeah, I'm divorced, Jasper. She left me. She cheated on me. She basically said she still loves me, but she couldn't spend the rest of her life with someone that sucked in bed," I yell.

I have to calm myself before I can go on. Once I'm able to speak in a normal voice, I tell him about my humiliation.

"She didn't want me any more, Jasper. So, she threw away everything we built…all of our years together, and found someone fourteen years older than me to fulfill her disgusting lust with." I don't realize, that with my confession, I've inched even closer to him, my chest now pushing against his. He shoves me back a step, before turning away from me.

I watch him, anxiously. His back expands, when he takes a deep breath, then his head falls forward.

"Fine. Get in," he breathes out.

I don't give him a second chance to change his mind. I scurry to the boat and gingerly make my way aboard, not wanting to tumble into the thick, muddy water. It would probably take me a week to scrub the results of such a fall from my body.

Jasper unhooks the boat, though I'm positive it wouldn't have wandered anywhere, even if it hadn't been tied down to the decaying post.

He grabs a long, sturdy, wooden pole lying on the floor of the watercraft, plunges the end into the murky water, and pushes us away from the boardwalk. He remains standing while he navigates us through the bayou.

Moving deeper into its mouth, I realize the backyard has nothing on the exotic swampland surrounding us. It's dank, quiet, and mysterious. The only sounds to be heard are bullfrogs croaking from their perches, birds chirping in their beds, and the slow, relaxing swish of the boat wading through the wetland.

Trees and other foliage sprout up through the water, leaving Jasper to weave through the obstacles carefully. There is no visible path, looking as though this is unchartered territory, but Jasper seems to know exactly where he's going.

The heat of the day had set a misty steam to settle just over the water's surface, and without the soft splashes against the swaying boat, it gives the illusion that we're floating on clouds.

I want to ask him if he'll take me here during the day, to really appreciate the alluring environment, but I don't want to push my luck with Jasper anymore than I already have for one day.

Besides, Jasper doesn't look like he'd be very accommodating right now. Perhaps, it'd be a favor I can ask of him tomorrow…_or_, judging by his current state, maybe next week.

I'm sure it'll all depend on what happens tonight. For some reason, I recognize that whatever takes place tonight has the potential to 'make or break' our very fragile acquaintance.

I try to focus on the surroundings, but as the moonlight filters through the trees, I can't help but take those opportunities to gaze at the enigmatic man standing over me.

A variety of emotions play across his face, and I wonder what he's thinking. My eyes drop to his arms, handling the wooden rod with precision. My stare lowers further, to his long legs, encased in sinfully tight jeans, while he deftly balances himself against the rocking sway of the boat.

When I finally look back up, I find his eyes on me.

I can't define his expression, but his dark gaze and set jaw send a surge of energy through me. I glance away, attempting to cover my gasp with a sharp cough that echoes through the still waters.

_He just caught me blatantly checking him out._

I do my best to refrain from looking in his direction again, only to find my gaze drawn back over and over. He's just so…_easy_ to look at.

It's approximately fifteen minutes before the bayou opens up into a larger body of water. Jasper maneuvers us over a clearly manmade bump, before we hit the cleaner waters.

He lowers the motor into the water, firing it up. It's then that it occurs to me where we're going.

One of the islands on that map.

I thought Emmett's behavior seemed strange when I asked him about the three inconspicuous dots on the map, but I'd figured he just inhaled too much of Rosalie's muffin, too quickly. I would've never thought to question his knowledge about a town he'd lived in his entire life.

I ponder the reasons why he wouldn't want me to know. I grow more excited when I realize my boundless curiosity is about to be satisfied, then nervous, because I have a hunch that tonight will be pivotal, not only to the furthering (or the decline) of Jasper's and my relationship, but also to my own life as well.

The breeze as we speed through the water feels nice. The night is sultry; moist, but still warm, even at this late hour. I tug at my collar, wishing I'd worn a t-shirt to the festival, instead of a button-down. Thankfully, my khaki shorts are light and airy.

Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, we pass by two vacant islands. Once we round the corner to the third, though, it's bustling with activity.

The marina is packed full of boats in varying size and shapes, some expensive, and some…well, like Jasper's. He eventually locates an available slip for the boat, where he docks and ties it down.

Walking down the beach, we approach a 'hut' type looking building. There are a few campfires outside the establishment with clusters of people hanging about the flames.

We walk nearer to the goings-on, until I freeze when all things become clear.

I can't believe what's right in front of my eyes.

Jasper continues to walk a few more steps, before he realizes I've stopped moving. He suddenly turns around, his stance as hard as his stare. He's angry, frustrated, and spoiling for a fight.

_He knew_ I'd freak out. He didn't want me to come, yet here I am, standing before him, utterly dumbfounded, just as he suspected I would.

I'm not going to make him regret bringing me by acting like I can't handle this.

_Whatever the hell this is_.

Finally, he shrugs…a sardonic smirk forming on his face.

"Welcome to Sinner's Island, Edward. This is where we sinners go to satisfy _our_ _disgusting lust_."

He continues on ahead, leaving me to follow in his unforgiving wake. Jasper barely takes notice of the scene around the fire, before he heads straight into the hut.

However, I can't seem to get my legs to move once I've reached the steamy edge of the bonfire near the entrance.

Two women…topless, wearing only bikini bottoms, cling to one another, dancing sinuously to the jazz music streaming through the torn screens on windows that appear to have been pried open permanently. The women's bodies touch almost everywhere, as they kiss, with tongues and teeth.

They massage one another's breasts. The blonde dips down to lick the valley between the other's pert mounds, teasing her nipples with her fingertips. The brunette's head falls back, while the blonde's tongue travels back up to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, sucking in earnest.

I look away, appalled by the lewd public display, but come face to face with something much worse.

Two men.

Oh – my – God.

Sans clothes, one of the men is on all fours in the sand, the other one behind him on his knees, just a few feet from the fiery blaze.

They're completing the ultimate act.

They are…_penetrating_.

Paralyzed by the scene in front of me, I can't move…or stop watching. The man's grossly long, cut dick glides fluidly in and out between smooth ass cheeks. His head is thrown back, his elongated neck corded from the strain of his clenched jaw. Every muscle in his lithe, glossy body is taut with tension, but it's the other man that draws more of my attention and interest. He looks…_euphoric_, in a state of ultimate bliss, definitely not in the pain or discomfort I would have expected to see from someone in his position.

Instead, his eyes are closed, a small hint of a smile on his face. He's obviously enjoying the sensations his partner seems to be inflicting upon him.

Abruptly, I become very aware of what I'm doing…what I've been looking at.

And I'm ashamed.

I look around to see if anyone else has noticed that I've been staring at the wrong pairing, but as usual, people pay me no mind. Some of the crowd watches the two couples, while others only glance at them occasionally. Still others ignore them completely, lost in cheery conversations with those around them.

It's like they're attending some sort of dinner show, not observing two people of the same sex performing intimate acts upon one another.

I stumble toward the building, afraid of what lies within, but I need to find Jasper.

I open the front door of what appears to be a bar.

A very over-crowded bar, but thank the heavens that from what I can see, everyone is mostly covered. The girls all wear tops, though they're scanty, at best. Most of the men have their shirts off, but are otherwise fully clothed. The dance floor swarms with mainly same sex pairings, although I spy a few heterosexual couples in the mix.

As men undulate against one another to the slow, seductive sounds of Barney Wilen, I futilely hunt for Jasper.

Never have I felt more disturbed in my life. I'm almost frantic to find him, my search becoming desperate, needing to be by his side _right now_.

The bar's 'floor to ceiling' is constructed with old, dark wooden planks. Several tall, cream-shaded lanterns hang from the rafters, barely seen through the dense fog emanating from the lascivious behavior generated on the congested dance floor.

_Jesus. It's so goddamned hot in here_. My senses are on such high alert that I feel a bead of sweat tickle my skin while it drizzles down the back of my neck. It's no wonder these men have removed their shirts. I have to suppress an urge to do so, as well.

Four large ancient fans oscillate slowly, barely circulating the stifling heat, leaving the air thick with sweat, sex, and rampant desire. A sweaty couple pushes flush against me, pressing me into the wall, and I'm this close to passing out while being sandwiched between two gay men.

That's all it takes for me to sense a massive panic attack emerging.

I push free with strength I wasn't aware I possessed. The couple barely noticed, dancing their way back into the sea of bodies, where now, it's impossible to keep track of who's partnered with whom. Backs pressing firmly against backs, bare chests grind against bare chests. There is no decisive pairing, as their slickened bodies smear and slither against one another, in ways I've never beheld.

How the _fuck_ am I going to find Jasper in here?

I'm momentarily shocked by my inner use of profanity. I've used the 'F' word on occasion, but usually when I do, the word is accompanied by some sort of unintended pain. Still, even with the absence of pain, I'm positive this situation can be considered 'fuck-worthy'.

I jump when my arm is grabbed, but I'm doused in tremendous relief when I turn to see the man I've been searching for.

Jasper takes one look at me, then chuckles. I can't even bear to ponder what I must look like.

"You asked to come," he warns, with teasing humor.

"C'mon, let me buy you a drink," he adds, stifling another snicker.

All I can do is nod. I'm so speechless right now.

We get halfway to the bar when I'm twirled about and encased in the arms of a burly man. Jasper quickly pulls us apart, before setting the man straight. I can't hear exactly what he says to him over the music, but the man nods his head, not even giving me a second glance when he trudges past.

Jasper advances on me, not stopping until his face is so, so close to mine. It's like slow motion. I'm in a trance…mute and incapable of motion. I can only watch while his face becomes blurrier the closer he gets.

It's only once he speaks into my ear that I realize I haven't been breathing…at all.

_What did I think he was going to do_?

Lost in that thought, I barely register what he says. He pulls back, looking at me expectantly, and I'm forced to put together the pieces of what he's said, so I can formulate an appropriate response.

"_If you don't want to get hit on, we're going to have to pretend we're together. Like hold hands…or something." _

_Oh right_. Pretend. Yeah…

A shiver runs up my spine. I'm not sure if it's because he's suggesting that we hold hands, or that I've just felt his soft lips on the shell of my ear. Whatever the case may be I have no problem following his instructions, instantly threading my fingers through his.

He briefly glances at our joined hands, before he stalks to the bar, dragging me along.

His hands are big, warm and strong; it feels strange since I'm used to holding cool, dainty hands. Yet, they seem to fit together perfectly. And, though it feels weird, it doesn't feel wrong, which I find _really_ disturbing.

Even more unsettling is the sense of loss I feel when we reach our destination and he untangles our fingers. He orders two shots of…something from the bartender.

My heart is still pumping erratically, and breathing is hard to do. So, when he hands me a glass, I down it. The liquid burns my throat and tastes like total shit, but I immediately ask for another.

While Jasper tries to catch the bartender's attention again, I see a man eyeing me. From just a few feet away, he appears to be only an inch or two taller than me. He has black short hair. His light green eyes, like the color of a freshly cut honeydew melon, stand out in sharp contrast to his olive skin. He's toned…very toned. His chest, abs and arms are defined, but not overly large.

My brain stops functioning properly when I notice he has nipple piercings. The thought of touching one stirs up unwelcomed arousal and instant shame.

_He's a man_.

I immediately put my arms around Jasper, remembering what he'd said about acting like we're together to ward off any unwanted attention. I cling to him urgently, burying my face in the protection of his neck. I might be taking Jasper's advice slightly overboard, but I want the stranger to get the point.

Jasper gasps, then turns around to fully envelope me in his strong arms. His hands spread wide on my back, squeezing me tightly against his hard chest. It's so comfortable. Regardless of all of this upheaval, I swear I could fall asleep in his embrace.

I briefly wonder what this would feel like if he'd stripped his shirt off like the other men had…and maybe, if I had, too.

His chin sits on the top of my head, so I feel when he turns to the side, his glance falling on the other man. Jasper sighs heavily, and his body instantly changes. His embrace deflates, becoming flat and unwelcoming.

The hold he has on me lessens, he's barely touching me now, and it makes me want to have it all back.

"Back off Seth. He's with me," Jasper threatens.

Apparently, that's all it takes, because the next thing I know, Jasper is wriggling out of my unrelenting grip and facing the bar to down his second shot. His expression is masked, his body stiff, and his eyes are trained on the bartender.

I don't know how long I stare at his profile before I figure out he isn't going to look at me. I warily sidle back up to the bar and swallow the nasty amber liquid.

He's signaling the bartender back over before I can put the glass back on the bar. While the drinks are being poured, Jasper's eyes drift to the dance floor, and my eyes follow.

One couple catches my eye, and I watch as their masculine bodies come together, thrusting and grinding salaciously, moving in perfect rhythm to the slow smoldering beat of an impassioned bass drum.

_Does Jasper dance when he comes here_?

I see men being led to a back room, too. I may not have ever been in a gay bar, but I've heard about what takes place in those illicit areas.

_Does Jasper go back there_?

Why do I keep doing this?

What is it about him?

Why do I constantly want to know where Jasper is? What he's doing? Why do I need to know all about him…what makes him smile…what makes him tick?

I have to admit now that it's _not_ because of Jeremy. My main character has nothing to do with why, when I first met Jasper, I noticed he wasn't wearing a wedding ring, when I'd never cared to look at any other guy's ring finger before.

Why had I been so upset when I thought he was having a kid…or that he hadn't mentioned that he had a girlfriend?

Why do I always notice his body…how he moves so gracefully, how his clothes always mold to him perfectly?

Why do I think he's sexy? Or like the feel of my hand in his?

Why do I like being wrapped in his arms?

I stare vacantly at the dance floor, while all these questions rage through my head. I'm dangerously close to hyperventilating, fighting off the barrage of questions I've been avoiding since the night I met him.

"Are you gonna drink this?" He asks, unaware of my inner turmoil.

"No." My voice is barely audible, but he seems to have heard, since he picks it up and inhales it, before slamming the glass back down on the bar.

"Are you ready to go?" He asks.

He looks at me now, and all I see is a swell of indifference. Jasper's decided something in this mind, I have no idea what it is, but it hurts to see him look at me so blandly.

Stunned silent, I nod my head.

He settles the tab before leading the way out, not attempting to hold my hand to keep up the façade. This time, I'm not the one who's detoured on the way to the exit.

He's stopped by someone who apparently knows him. Their heads are close together, while they speak in hushed tones, the man caressing Jasper's shoulder as they converse.

And I don't fucking like it.

_Jesus_. I'm so confused, and all I want to do is go back to my room and think.

When we get back to the boat, we don't say a word. It isn't until we're well into the bayou, that I decide to speak.

"So, you're gay then?"

An awkward pause ensues.

"Yes, Edward. I'm gay," he says, as if he's talking to an inexperienced schoolboy. I don't take offense, since I feel very naïve right now.

"I…I don't have any problem with that," I say honestly, but my innocent comment seems to have poked the bear.

"That's good to know," he deadpans.

I decide it's time to shut my mouth.

XXXXX

"_What's going on Jere?" Tony asks, eyes full of concern._

_Jeremy looks around the crowded saloon, making sure there are no prying eyes or ears. When he's satisfied that there isn't anyone close enough to hear their conversation, he turns back to his best friend._

"_We found another girl last night," he admits._

"_Jesus," Tony whispers._

_Jeremy had met Anthony Masen his first week in town, six months ago. Jeremy's neighbor, Maria, had invited him over for dinner to meet some of the townsfolk and welcome him to the small community. One of those in attendance was Maria's brother, Anthony._

_Anthony…Tony for short, has lived in Halfway his whole life, and is a teacher at the middle school. Jeremy naturally gravitated toward Tony's friendly smile and quiet demeanor. They'd spent most of that night talking, quickly becoming fast friends. He's one of the very few people in the small town Jeremy feels he can trust and confide in._

_Tony lays his hand on Jeremy's arm, squeezing reassuringly. "Don't worry, you'll get the bastard," he murmurs._

_Jeremy merely nods, Tony's words and touch sending a warm tingle of calmness through him._

I wrench my eyes open, my frustrating night of sleep interrupted by a significant amount of pain.

Pain from two sources exactly.

My head is pounding and my dick is throbbing.

I haven't consumed hard liquor since college, and the debilitating headache is an excruciating reminder of why I don't anymore.

Ignoring my headache for the moment, I pull down the sheets to examine my other predicament.

"Holy shit," I whisper, almost awe-stricken.

I haven't had this _big_ of a problem since I was a wee teenager. I'm still subjected to the occasional morning wood, but it's nothing a cold shower doesn't normally take care of. I rarely feel the need to take myself in hand, but the few times that it persists, like the other day, I'm never quite in the state I am now.

My erection hovers over my stomach, stiff and demanding. The tip is a deep, rosy red, with fluids seeping from the slit. Almost reverently, I press my forefinger against the tip, spreading the liquid around the swollen head. My cock jumps at my touch, and I gasp.

The pressure is intense, causing my dick to throb relentlessly…and the ache…it's a wicked pulse, on the verge of bursting. I decide to forgo lube, or even licking my hand, knowing I'm going to be breaking a record this morning.

I take myself in hand and pump. I don't even have time to conjure up any images, because I stroke my cock exactly eight times before I ejaculate all over my stomach. The orgasm is short and feeble, but unfortunately, I'm no stranger to weak orgasms.

I cover my eyes with my forearm. Resting, I replay the events from last night.

_Shit, did that really happen?_

When we arrived back at the inn last night, I'd been in such a daze. I remember saying goodnight to Jasper, receiving a grunt in return. I'd only discarded my shirt before I climbed into bed, and fell into a slumber almost immediately. I'd woken up several times sweating, tangled in the sheets, with my heart beating out of my chest from dreams I now can't recall.

_So where did last night leave Jasper and me_?

No closer to obtaining any answers to my ever-growing number of questions, I throw the covers aside in disgust.

Frustrated, I get up to shower, and look for some goddamned pills.

Soaking under the hot spray, I spread body wash along my stomach and chest, as I recall my initial shock upon arriving at Sinner's Island…what I saw, and how I reacted.

Just thinking about it has me stroking my semi to a steely hardness again.

_What the hell is wrong with me_?

It doesn't seem to matter much, because this feels way too good to stop. Knowing I'm going to last a little longer this time, I use the shower gel to lube up. I lather up my rod, so it's nice and slick, slipping in and out of my wet fist, just brushing passed the fleshy rim of my head at each pass.

My other hand travels up my stomach to my nipples. I squeeze and pinch the buds, like those girls had done to each other last night by the fire. I attempt to keep my visuals on them, and not the other couple that had been on display, but the images morph without my consent, switching from perky breasts to two men in the throes of passion, reaching their bliss in the glow of a deep purple and orange sunset.

My hand speeds up on my dick, my eyes clenching shut. I don't want to do it, but I imagine myself in that one vulnerable position, dreaming of what it would feel like.

"Fuck!" I spit out. My hand braces on the tile wall as my hips get involved, pushing into my other hand with harsh, erratic thrusts. The picturesque sunset has all but disintegrated when I zoom in to focus on the act itself.

Just balls meeting ass…

A long silky dick, ravaging a smooth tight ass.

Inescapably, my hand leaves the safety of the tile wall to explore areas of my body that I've never attempted to stimulate. I reach behind me, brushing the tips of my fingers over my ass crack. I spread my legs further, bending a little to attain more access, then skim my finger over my hole.

The forbidden touch sends a vibration straight through my cock, and I cry out, scared and exhilarated all at once.

"Oh my God…" I whimper. I leave my finger in place, but am afraid to go any further.

My visions return to the act.

Balls meeting ass.

A gorgeous dick thrusting into a beautiful buttock. Harder…faster…

I poke and press the sensitive skin of my entrance, while I jack my rigid cock.

My stomach flutters, heat surges, and blond flashes before my eyes.

"Ugh, Jas," and I'm suddenly pulsing, and exploding, and I'm a mess. Choking back the scream welling up in my throat, my wobbly legs topple and I crumble hard to the bathtub floor.

I'm bent over, with one hand still milking my cock, shaking and panting for breath. The heart-stopping contractions subside and I let myself fall back, sitting back on my heels, awed and tired…trembling, breathless and _unbelievably_ satiated.

A soft, tearless sob bursts from my chest.

No words can describe how I feel in this very moment.

When long overdue revelations finally come to pass, I find that the knowledge of why I never felt like my body belonged to me, or why I've never fit into my own life, has finally been revealed.

I now know three things for certain: one, I am irrevocably gay; two, I need to be fucked; and three, Jasper is the one I want to do it.

_And the truth shall set you free_.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! Edward's gay, and he knows it! So, what do you think of Sinner's Island? Do you want Ed and Jas to go back, and maybe do things a little differently next time? I'd love to hear your ideas. As usual, you tell me what you think and I'll tell you what I think.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Important AN at the bottom. Please read.**

Thanks to Lauren (**leckadams**) for spending money on this fic.

Thanks to everyone for the moral support last week. I received so many wonderful PM's that totally cheered me up. So thanks guys!

Thanks to Belle (**bellemeer**) for not only rec'ing me on her amazing fic (There's A Crack In Everything) but she listened to me vent when I lost half of chapter 6 too.

I tried to respond to **LostImortal,** but the profile doesn't accept PM's, so thank you for your kind review.

**Layne Faire** had a rough week too, but she managed to make time to do some awesome beta work.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

_2:16am_

I groan, pulling the pillow over my head, trying desperately to regain unconsciousness, but the red digits are burned into my retinas, taunting me with the hour of my wakefulness.

_Dammit_.

I toss the pillow aside, opening my eyes to the blackness of the room. It hadn't been all that long ago that I'd have been used to waking up at this time, as well as numerous other times throughout the night. Over the last few weeks, though, I'd become accustomed to sleeping like a baby, my old habit gone since my visit to Sinner's Island.

Knowing who I am…_what_ I am, has lifted a monstrous burden from my weary shoulders. Solving the mystery of why I've never been able to please a woman, or satisfy myself, allows a peace to settle over me, I've never experienced before.

I hadn't just accepted that bathtub incident as proof of my sexuality. No. No. No. I surfed the World Wide Web, seeking more evidence to support my newfound epiphany. After investigating the extensive assortment of gay porn on the Internet, I verified what I should've known all along.

That incident had been no fluke. There's no doubt about it. I'm homosexual.

_Thank fucking God_.

I should be freaked out, learning I'm gay, but actually it just clicks. The worry, the constant pressure to be 'normal', the edginess, the discontent; they all vanished once realization bloomed.

In the process of proving my point, I've also come to believe that my cock is going to fall off and die.

I've jacked my dick more in the last two weeks than I have in the last ten years. But, it isn't just the videos that provide relentless fodder for my insatiable hunger.

It's Jasper. His gorgeous face, his sinewy body, his graceful gait…his hands.

I want those hands on me again. And if I'm fortunate enough to be given another opportunity, I _will not_ screw it up.

I thought it might have been a slightly overblown infatuation…okay, so maybe a bit of an obsession, but the fact is, I'd been, and still am, extremely attracted to him.

I've also realized my interest in Jasper transcends well beyond physical appeal. I care about him. A lot.

He isn't overly verbal, but his eyes and mannerisms speak volumes. He's quiet, but friendly, and passionate about people and things he cares about. His warm smiles cause me to smile; his rich laugh stirs a warm contentment to swirl through me, because he matters to me, and I adore seeing him happy.

Needless to say, I've had plenty of spare time, during these last two weeks, to come to grips with not only my homosexuality, but to define my true feelings for Jasper, as well.

I've thought back over the course of the last month, and to my utter mortification, I've deduced that I'd inadvertently been giving Jasper mixed signals regarding my intentions toward him. As intuitive as he is, he probably suspected all along I was gay, but my actions and words contradicted themselves. I'd practically stalked him, but then backed off when he started flirting subtly. I'd told him I didn't have anyone waiting for me back home, but then mentioned I'd been married to a woman.

He must be so confused and frustrated.

Being so nauseatingly oblivious, I hadn't recognized the signs earlier, but I'm certain that Jasper had been interested in me at one point.

Given my erratic behavior, though, I don't know if he still is.

It's difficult to remember the way we'd left things two weeks ago. To say that I'd returned from Sinner's Island _overwhelmed_ would be an appalling underestimation. However, the more I focused on the details of our last encounter, and our last words, I clearly recall his hurtful unresponsiveness, and his blatant disregard.

Jasper has pushed me away. And rightfully so.

But is it all settled then? Had that been that my one and only last chance? Will Jasper let me erase some of my ignorant mistakes and afford me the opportunity to show him what he really means to me?

It's kind of hard to answer those questions when I don't ever see him. Jasper has, once again, performed his famous disappearing act. I haven't caught sight of him since he abandoned me at the inn steps two long weeks ago.

I'm only here for another month. Time is quickly running out for us to spend together…to build something together…before I return home to Chicago.

I drop my fist forcefully into the mattress. How can I tell him how I feel, how sorry I am for everything I'd begun and then backed out of? How do we start over…begin something new, if he won't present himself?

I've found myself wavering at the footpath that leads to his cabin a few times, only to turn back, not able to bring myself to infringe upon his territory. I also haven't broken down and asked Rosalie or Emmett about his whereabouts, but I don't know how much longer I can go without seeing him, without explaining my feelings for him.

I've attempted to entertain myself by putzing around Bon Terre, checking out the stunning scenery, visiting the local sights, or just hanging out with Rosalie and Emmett, or the other guests. However, my mind never drifts too far from Jasper.

It's true, I'm going crazy from not seeing him. Yet, even in these more recent days, when I didn't think it'd be possible to bear another day without setting my eyes on him, I've still done nothing to avidly seek him out.

Honestly, there've been several reasons for not searching him out, other than not wanting to invade his privacy. Foremost among them, I've required time to accept such a drastic discovery that not only explains so much about my past, but affects every single aspect of my future. Even though it's lifted a burden, it's still a tremendous load to process.

Another reason I've been hesitant to chase him down is the impossibility of our situation. I'll only be In Bon Terre for another month and I fear for my heart. There's no doubt in my mind that I'll return to Chicago in the fall…it's my home. Falling in love with Jasper Hale will do me no good, whatsoever.

_If I haven't already_.

If I happen to be in love with him already, and we become intimate, I don't know how I'll cope when it's time to leave. Is it possible that I can have some sort of liaison with Jasper and then return happily to Chicago in the autumn, only remembering him as the wonderful catalyst that led me to my self-actualization?

I'm skeptical, to say the least.

The thought of leaving Bon Terre, and Jasper, already causes a stabbing pain in my chest.

God, I hate thinking about this.

_Where the hell is he?_

Now wide awake, my stomach growls, so I throw off the covers and pull a t-shirt over my head. Rosalie keeps treats on the kitchen table for midnight snackers, and an apple scone sounds delicious.

As usual, on my way out, I peer out the windowpane, seeing a faint light in the distance, coming from Jasper's place.

Is there someone there with him?

Setting him on fire with their touch?

He's free to be with whom he chooses, but it kills me now that I've finally pulled my head out of my ass to grasp the fact that it's me I want him to choose.

I haven't seen him outside again. He's stopped standing outside my window, or at least he isn't smoking while he's doing it. The few times I've been out there late at night, his boat is already gone.

He's gone back there. Doing God knows what and with whom.

I remember the guy Jasper had been talking to when we had left the bar. It slays me that he could be there, talking to him, being the recipient of his smiles…caressing him.

I sniffed, recalling his scent when I'd buried my face in his tantalizing neck at the bar.

_Cedar and smoke_.

His skin had been hot and silky, and I still can't believe I had the chance to lick him and didn't partake.

Another wasted opportunity.

I amble downstairs, making my way into the kitchen, tiptoeing like a thief in the night. However, it takes a bit away from the deviousness when Rosalie leaves a note on the crown jewel of goodies that says 'help yourself'.

It also doesn't help if she's guarding them.

"Hi Rosalie. Can't sleep?"

"Emmett's gotta cold, so he's snorin' up a hurricane up there. What are you doin' up?"

"I need another one of those apple scones." I _steal_ one from the basket in the center of the kitchen table, punctuating my actions with an evil snicker, not willing to completely give up the charade of being sneaky.

I sit down across from her and nibble on the sweet treat.

"Do you wear that around town?" I ask, signaling to the worn purple Northwestern Wildcat t-shirt she's wearing.

"Hell no, not unless I want to get mauled by some rabid Tigers." She snorts.

"Are there a lot of LSU fans in Bon Terre?" I had noticed that many of the homes in town had LSU Tiger flags hanging proudly from their residences. Baton Rouge isn't that far away, so it wouldn't be a far stretch, given the way this small town rallies for their own, that they'd also staunchly support their SEC powerhouse.

"Heck ya, these folks had a vigil for two straight nights before LSU went to the title game in 2008. You'd think the world was comin' to an end," she chuckles, shaking her head. "Jas is just as bad as the rest of 'em. He's the biggest fan I know, been so since he was a kid." Hearing Jasper's name causes my gut to twist, and I put down the scone, my appetite suddenly lost.

Her smile wavers. "Y'know, I think Jas was only eight when he decided he was goin' to LSU. As soon as he was old enough he started workin' summers, and weekends durin' school, to save up tuition."

"But he didn't go," I state solemnly. Her eyes narrow, probably wondering how I obtained such information.

"No, he didn't," she replies, with a woeful smile.

"Times were tough when we were young'uns. We didn't have much money back then. Jas had to give up some of his earnin's to help out around the house." Her eyes shine, but she continues to smile softly.

"By the time I graduated high school, my family hadn't saved enough money to send me to a good college, even after I'd received half of a scholarship to Northwestern. I planned on attendin' the community college, but Jas wouldn't have it. He said I was smarter than all that. He gave me the money that ma had saved up for his college, along with everything he'd earned workin', so I could go to the big University and get the best education. That's why I tried so hard while I was there. Always studyin', so I could get the best grades. I didn't want to disappoint him. I didn't want him to regret passin' up his dream for me." She sniffles, wiping her nose with a napkin.

"He said he didn't need to go to some fancy college to do what he does best, which is so true. Look at all the beauty he creates with his hands. He has amazin' talent." She dabs the moisture from her eyes. "He's somethin' else…my brother. There isn't much we wouldn't do for each other."

I feel my eyes sting, shamed by my own regrets. There had been a time that Alice and I shared an unconditional relationship.

I've been so busy the last year feeling sorry for myself, so self-consumed with my fears and dissatisfaction, that I let our relationship crumble.

I swallow past the bitterness, and change the subject.

"What are you eating?"

A silly grin spreads across her tired face. "Cap'n Crunch." I love the way she says 'captain'. She pronounces it exactly like it's spelled on the box. _Cap'n_.

"You want some?" She doesn't wait for answer, but gets up to retrieve another bowl from the cupboard.

We both crunch our cereal in silence, but it's companionable and easy.

"If you don't mind me sayin', you looked a tad mopey at dinner," she speculates.

I'd really like to tell her the true reason for my moroseness. I'd really like to tell her that I was upset Jasper ditched us…me…again. That yet another day will go by before I'll see that cheeky smile, or hear that scintillating voice.

But, even though I know Rosalie would be a great listener, I can't spill my guts yet. It's not fair to my family, who should be, and will be, the first to know about the changes in me, and informing Alice I'm gay isn't something I'm willing to divulge through email or over the phone.

It's sad enough that I'll be forced to expose my secret to my parents by phone, since they don't reside in Chicago anymore. They retired a couple of years ago, moving to the Florida Keys. While I fully expect they'll be disappointed, it's important to me to inform them and Alice before anyone else.

Of course, I have every intention of enlightening Jasper of my latest discovery ASAP, but he has to materialize for us to have that conversation.

So, instead of telling Rosalie the truth, I decide to disclose something I've already come to terms with. "Bella…my ex-wife…she's getting married tomorrow."

"Oh hon." She reaches over, patting my hand in a comforting way. "I'm so sorry. That girl must be a little bent to give you up."

I smile at her frankness. "No, it's really okay. I've had some time to reflect recently, and I've realized that she deserved more than I was able to give her." I leave it at that. I don't know how much more I can say without revealing too much.

She scoffs softly, revealing her disbelief, but says nothing.

"Want some more Cap'n Crunch?" She asks, holding up the container.

"Sure," I answer, taking the box from her.

"I love the way you say that," I admit, pouring another full bowl. "_Cap'n_ Crunch," I repeat, embellishing her thick accent.

She raises her brows. "Oh, so it's like that, is it? Okay…" She sits up straight in her chair, and lifts her nose high in the air.

"I will have some of that CapTAIN Crunch, if you please." She plugs her nose while she mocks my speech, and purported 'accent'.

"I _do not_ talk like that," I admonish, in outrage.

"I _do not_ talk like that," she mimics, continuing to plug her nose, and adding a squeaky voice to boot.

Thoroughly affronted, I throw a piece of the cereal from my bowl at her. It hits her face, before landing on the table next to her arm. My eyes widen, shocked by my own actions, but it doesn't prevent the fit of giggles I succumb to.

It's not until I'm pelleted with bits of peanut butter and crunch berries, that my laughter escalates almost painfully, but I still manage to retaliate in kind.

By the time our bowls are empty, and our laughter has cramped our stomachs, we're both covered in a sticky, slimy mess.

We share the responsibility of cleaning up the kitchen, before we say our goodnights and return to our rooms to clean up ourselves.

Bonding with Rosalie causes me miss my own sister, and I pray our relationship can be restored; that I haven't fucked it up beyond repair.

XXXXX

"_I'll check for fluids," Victoria says skeptically, a frown marring the pretty face of the town's coroner._

_Like Jeremy, she knows she won't find any, because it's not the killer's MO. There's no sexual assault, just a gruesome strangling of an innocent young girl._

_Once a week, for the last four, a young woman has been found in various deserted locations throughout town. She's blindfolded, wearing only her underclothes, and all of their bodies are positioned the exact same way._

_James, the deputy and Jeremy's right-hand man, finishes the arrangements to have the body delivered to Victoria's office. He looks tired and shaken. James has proven to be a reliable assistant. He's very good at his job, competent and thorough in all of our investigations. Jeremy can see that the serial killings are starting to really wear on the other man._

_Victoria packs up her kit, before coming to speak to them. "I'll see you at home, baby," she says sympathetically, placing a light kiss on James' cheek._

"_I'll have the report complete by morning," she says, glancing up at me, while she closely monitors the packaging and movement of the girl's body._

_Jeremy has always felt that Victoria is as stiff and cold as the bodies she examines, but James, her husband of three years, says she's quite the opposite._

_A 'firecracker' is what he affectionately calls her._

"Hey Alice."

"_Edward? Is everything okay_?" Her voice is more high-pitched then normal, and it bites that Alice feels there has to be an emergency in order for me to actually phone her.

"Yeah, umm…everything is fine. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice," I admit.

There's a long pause on the line, and I wonder if I've overstepped the boundaries we've established in the last year. I hope I'm not too late, because I don't want to have these walls between us anymore.

"Is…is that o-okay?" I stammer.

"_Yeah…_" she whispers slowly. "_Of course, it's okay Edward. It's nice to hear your voice, too_."

Rays of hope warm my chest, when I hear her sincerity. I smile into the phone. "You'd love it here Alice…"

And so we talk for almost an hour catching up. She tells me what's going on in Chicago, and all about her latest boyfriend.

Since I've made the decision that telling her I'm gay over the phone isn't an option, I only mention Jasper in passing. Instead, I describe the surroundings to the best of my ability, discuss the progress of my novel, and mention that Rosalie is making me fat.

We both laugh, and it sounds so genuine; it feels wonderful.

"Speaking of which, I think dinner is just about ready to be served. She's making her Nana's lasagna. She even makes her own noodles, for Christsakes."

"_Sounds scrumptious, you'll have to bring back some recipes, if she's willing to part with them_." She pauses sighing softly_, "Well, it was really good to talk to you Eds_."

My eyes immediately tear up when she uses the nickname she hasn't spoken since I started high school. It's at that exact moment I realize our relationship is going to be all right.

"_Call me again, real soon, okay?_"

"I will…I-I miss you." My emotional state has me stuttering through my confession.

"_I've missed you too,_" She replies, and by the wistful way she says it I know she's not referring to just the time I've spent here.

XXXXX

I slide on a fresh t-shirt and head down to the dining room. The smells emanating from the kitchen are mouthwatering. The tomatoey, garlic scent permeates the room, instantly causing my demanding stomach to grumble loudly.

Emmett's already seated when I sit down – fork in hand. "Hey Edward. Looks like it's just the three of us again tonight."

I try not to look crushed, like I have every other day when it becomes apparent that Jasper isn't going to show up. Emmett looks at me strangely, so I pass off my misery on the new guests. "Oh, I was hoping to finally meet the two girls that arrived on Monday."

Emmett gives me a knowing look. _If he only knew_.

He smirks devilishly. "Oh, I thought the frown was because Cap'n Crunch isn't on the menu tonight." He winks, chuckling when he sees my blush. Evidently, he's not too concerned about the food fight Rosalie and I had last night.

Nor should he be.

"No, seriously, Irina and Jane are havin' supper in town, and then they're headin' down to the dock for a party."

"What kind of party?" I ask, conversationally.

"I dunno. Typical beach party…bonfire, alcohol, music…" He trails off, his thought completely lost as the kitchen door swings open.

"I hear Jas is gonna be there," Rosalie adds, while she brings a steaming casserole dish to the table. I can't stop the instantaneous reaction I have to hearing his name and my eyes shoot up to Rosalie's face to verify that what she's said isn't in jest. She's looking at me, so I try to cover my interest in her brother by eyeing the dish in her hand.

My mouth automatically salivates when I notice the cheese still bubbling around the edges.

She snickers, "Okay boys, try not to eat the whole dish before I come back."

I've already dished out my serving, and taken my first bite, before she returns with a plate of garlic bread and a bowl of mixed vegetables.

I bypass the vegetables in favor of adding an extra slice of garlic bread to my plate.

Conversation flows through dinner, while I steadfastly avoid mentioning Jasper or the party tonight.

"So, Edward, I was thinking of puttin' a gazebo in the back. What do ya think? I see ya back there often. Wouldn't it be nice if you had some place to sit, instead of leanin' up on that tree the way ya do?" Rosalie asks, while she cuts into a homemade peach cobbler.

After two helpings of lasagna, and two large wedges of garlic bread, I resist the dire urge to unbutton my jeans when the tasty dessert is placed in front of me.

"Well, it's your property, but honestly, Rosalie I wouldn't change a thing back there. I love it exactly the way it is."

Her eyes sparkle, and she smiles crookedly. "I think you just might be right Edward," she agrees matter-of-factly. Her eyes lower to her plate, while she cuts into her own desert. "Jas agrees with ya too. Says I shouldn't mess with the natural beauty."

"You should take his advice," I answer, just above a whisper, squelching a sudden burst of melancholy.

I finish my last bite, and sit back rubbing my swollen belly. "That was delicious. Are you sure you didn't go to school to be a chef?"

"Her cookin' is just as good as her designin', don'tcha think?" Emmett beams at his wife with pride and love.

"I certainly do," I concur.

"Thanks guys," Rosalie says with a hint of blush on her cheeks, staring at her husband. I look at anything but them, feeling like I'm intruding on an intimate conversation. After their moment, she jumps up and starts clearing dishes.

"So, Edward?" She says distractedly. "Are you goin' to head on out to that party tonight?"

I eye her, trying to figure out if she knows I'd only be going in pursuit of her brother, or if she just wants me gone so she and Emmett can have some quality alone time, but she's not portraying any signs of a hidden meaning behind her question.

Not that it matters anyway. Once she mentioned Jasper would be there, I knew I'd also be attending.

XXXXX

Closing my laptop after writing my seventh sex scene, I find my own interpretations, even heterosexual, have turned me on. I doubt I'll need so many for this story, but it's nice to keep them around, just in case.

I palm my dick, glancing at the clock on the night table, and decide to have some quality time of my own before I head out for the beach party.

I lean back in the chair, tracing the outline of my erection through my sweats. Molding the pliable fabric against the bulge, I look down, moaning as I squeeze, massage and manipulate my length.

I never thought I'd get so turned on watching myself play with my own cock, but fuck if I don't get harder as my eyes capture every movement.

I tease my hardness endlessly through the soft cloth. My self-induced torture compels whimpers and curses to seep past my lips.

I imagine seeing Jasper at the wharf tonight, standing amongst the bonfire, wisps of his hair blowing in the breeze, his gorgeous hooded blue eyes staring at me with insurmountable lust and want.

My dick pulses. Any image of Jas never fails to leave me rock hard and throbbing.

Especially when the images transform into ones without clothes.

He'll be magnificent, no doubt.

His chest will be solid, his stomach flat and cut, with a tantalizing strip of blond hair under his navel. He'll have a long, thick cock, with a bulging vein and bulbous head, begging to be touched, sucked…buried.

Buried so fucking deep.

A groan full of longing and desire is wrenched from my chest. I want that so badly. Hell, I want him so badly. I want to feel his stubble against mine as I ravage his mouth. I want to feel his tongue slide along my shaft, while I reciprocate. I want to feel his pulse inside of me…opening and stretching…pumping.

Rising, I lower my sweat pants and then return to the chair, scooting my ass close to the edge of the seat.

I situate the chair close enough to the desk, so that when I prop my feet up onto the ledge of the wooden surface my knees nearly touch my chin, but I spread them wide open, letting them fall as far to the sides as they'll go, giving me a perfect view of my cock and sac…and also perfect access to what lies beneath.

I'm thankful that the chair doesn't have wheels, affording the possibility of obtaining a position I've only imagined thus far.

Never have I felt so vulnerable, yet free, at the same time.

I've been experimenting with my ass…touching, rubbing, and inserting. I've gotten as far as sticking a whole finger inside of me. The pain was awful at first, and the pressure almost unbearable, but I've definitely got the hang of it. It took me several attempts to find my prostate, but once I had, it's become a drug, and I can't get enough of the high.

I'm slowly milking my cock, wringing small beads of cum from the reddened tip. My other hand rubs down my inner thigh, building anticipation for where I really want it to be. I relish the chase, rolling my balls around my palm, stretching the loose skin, and then cupping them. I press into the soft skin under my balls, slowly leading the way to the wrinkled skin beyond.

I force the hand fisting my dick not to rush, but my body is already desperately searching for the release it needs. I slow down, but my needy body retaliates with small quick thrusts of my hips.

I haven't figured out how to control the timing of my climax well enough yet, so helpless to circumvent the imminent, I go for it. I quickly suck my biggest finger in my mouth, and press it into my excited hole. I'll avoid the area that doesn't fail to make me cum on the spot for as long as I possibly can.

My eyelids squeeze shut with the pleasure of it _all_. I can't believe I've lived so long without this. Prodding my canal with sharp decisive thrusts, my hips snap up, pressing my finger in deeper, while I imagine that it's a cock inside of me.

I've been watching videos. I know how it looks, how it's done…but I want so badly to know how it feels.

"Jasper," I cry out, longingly.

It's his dick I want in my ass. It's his body I want on top of mine, and his lips I want to feast on. It's his name I want to scream out when he's sheathed inside my tight heat.

I pick up the tempo on my shaft, repeatedly pulling my fist over my head. I find the spot deep inside me that makes my stomach roll, and my toes curl.

I'd make Jasper feel so good, he'd cry out for me as he spilt his seed inside my willing tunnel.

"Shit…uhhh."

I hold my pulsing dick upright, and perfectly still, while it rains creamy cum over my chest and abdomen. I have to gnash my teeth to contain the shouts of pleasure, while staggering waves of bliss seize my body.

I drop my softening dick onto my stomach, and lay my head back on the chair, panting from exertion.

God, I hope I see Jasper tonight.

I'm more than ready to receive pleasure from something other than my own hand.

XXXXX

The party is in full swing by the time I arrive fashionably late. I've been here for about twenty minutes, but haven't seen Jasper anywhere. There are only a hundred or so people in attendance, so if he's around, I shouldn't have any problem locating him.

"Hey you're Edward, right?" I turn around, and face two young women, perhaps a few years younger than myself. They look like twins. One is a few inches taller than the other, but they both have long flowing blond hair, similar facial structures, and the most striking _golden_ eyes. It may be just a trick of the blaze around us, but their eyes are almost…yellow. _Fascinating_.

"Yeah, umm…have we met?" I ask, doubtfully. I'd remember seeing eyes like that, even in passing.

"Not officially. You've probably heard of us, but we haven't had the pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Irina; this is my sister, Jane," she says, pointing at her cohort. "We're staying at the Stormy Haven too…right down the hall from you. We've spotted you reading in the backyard a few times."

I'd been to the library earlier in the week to gather information regarding basic forensic vernacular for my story. I could've researched the information I was looking for on the Internet, but I'm glad that I hadn't. I've learned a lot more reading an entire book on the subject than I would've just by looking up specific info and situations.

Endeavoring not to spend so much time in my room, I'd elected to do my reading in my favorite place.

"Yeah, wouldn't it be more comfy for you to sit on the porch or something? The ground back there doesn't look very inviting." Jane asks.

_On the contrary_…but, I don't want them to know that. I'd rather not have the company. So, I just smile and shrug.

They've only been here for a few days, so I catch up on the places they've already seen, then suggest some of the places I've visited that I think they'd enjoy. A few of the local boys that had been inching closer to the girls join our conversation.

When I can't stand anymore of the flirting and giggles, I excuse myself to get a beverage.

I grab a beer, before returning to the bonfire. Everyone is gathered near the blaze, as we enjoy the coolest night we've had in Bon Terre since I've arrived. Someone pulls out a guitar, and the crowd closes in around him.

He strums methodically; his voice is a soothing, melodious timbre. Couples hold one another, gently swaying to the soft music, while a sense of peace and tranquility settle over the group.

The music calms me, like it's always held the power to do in the past. For the first time since I've been here, I miss playing, and I miss my piano back home. I hadn't wanted to bring any instruments with me on this vacation, when lately, playing reminds me only of the bitter disappointment I suffer as the result of my career.

It's a strong reminder of why I'm here.

I stare blindly into the flames. The part of me that wanted to avoid a relationship with Jasper while I'm here is getting bigger. Not seeing him is doing a real number on me, and it hurts that he purposefully eludes me.

Now that I'm able to see how things must've appeared to him this last month, I don't blame him for being confused. But, I can't understand, if he were having an issue, why he hadn't just talked to me about it.

I'm starting to believe that maybe this just isn't worth it. This constant goose chase that I'm playing with Jasper isn't helping me to recover, but at the same time I can argue that before I'd met Jasper I hadn't really had a life at all.

Jasper's encouraged me to start living again, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I yearn, I desire…and I feel passion.

I think I can handle the good with the bad. I'd rather have this...longing, this craving, this unrequited desire, than to have never experienced any of it at all.

I want a life…a real one, not the pretense of one.

"This is a lot different than the last bonfire you attended, huh?"

_Jasper._

I swing around to find him staring at me. His eyes are dark, penetrating…soul-searching, but at the same time, uninviting and wary. In a span of a second, his eyes have drifted over every inch of me, and it may be my imagination but I sense an urgency there.

If that's true I'll do anything to get him to stop denying himself…denying us both.

He sought me out. _He_ approached _me_.

Worried about scaring him off, I make a quick decision to not focus on any of the hurt of his previous defect, and just be glad that he's here now.

"Hey Jasper! It's really good to see you. What have you been up to?" I give him the warmest smile I can muster in my anxious state.

A crinkle forms between his brows a split second before he forms his own tentative smile, but it's not the same silly, sexy, mischievous smile I've been accustomed to. His eyes don't hold the spark that I've come to adore.

Studying him closer, I notice dark circles under his eyes.

Apparently, too many late nights.

His body language is intentional, and brutally standoffish.

It's like he doesn't want to be anywhere near me, but yet…_he_ approached _me_.

I want so terribly bad to confront him, to ask him what he's doing here if he really doesn't want anything to do with me, but I already know the reason, and it's all my fault.

I remember our last contact…his mentality.

Indifferent…uninterested.

_Cold_.

He's put a wall around him, but strangely for me, I believe it's a good thing.

If he'd been forced to build a defense…put up this barrier between us, he _has_ to have feelings for me.

Right? _Jesus, I hope so_.

I'm gambling a lot on this theory…my heart's the ante.

"Not much. Just work…" he trails off. Shrugging, his eyes flitting around, looking at anything but me, but his eyes keep flashing back to mine.

"So, how did that basement turn out?" I ask nonchalantly, barely able to contain my amusement at his futile effort at ignoring me. If he's fighting this he better be prepared for a battle. He doesn't know how determined I can be.

"They seemed to like it." He looks at me then, and I swear it looks like he's in pain. I forget my delight for a moment, feeling sorry for him. I can't wait to apologize for putting him through all of this uncertainty and misapprehension, and at some point in the near future I absolutely plan to make this up to him.

He seems to have given up his struggle for the moment as he watches me. His pink tongue zips out to swipe his plump top lip, then he bites down on the corner of his lower one.

_He's trying to kill me_.

I want to pull this stubborn man to me and kiss him senseless. I want to end all this confusion on both sides, and to ensure there are no more questions regarding the way we feel for each other.

But I've been so hot and cold; I don't want to get hot and heavy so fast. He'll just be expecting, at any moment, for me to flake out.

I want to be _warm_.

I'd try flirting…if I knew where to begin.

I remain cheerful, as I attempt to come up with some sort of strategy. "So, I heard your friends had their baby. How did they like the crib?"

His eyes light up slightly at the mention of his friends and their new bundle of joy. "They love it. Baby Sarah is a _beauty_." His smile wanes on the last word, while his eyes focus directly on my lips…and stay there. The intensity of his stare causes my dick to harden, and this time it doesn't bother me. I actually welcome it.

I lick my lips, in a hopefully seductive manner, but it seems to have the opposite affect of what I'd hoped for because his gaze breaks away. His body stiffens, and he turns halfway around, with his fists balled tightly at his sides.

"I should go," he mutters, looking frantically for an escape. He's going to leave, causing me to wonder how long he'll disappear for after this encounter. I'll be lucky to see him again before I head back home.

I can't let that happen.

No mixed signals. This is my chance to let him know where I stand.

Bravely, I reach out for his wrist, grasping onto it lightly.

"Don't go," I whisper…too fervently…too desperately, not for him to notice. I hold nothing back. "Stay with me, Jasper."

There's no possible way my words can be misconstrued.

_Accept for someone who's been misled way too many times_.

What have I done?

Fuck, I've really put myself in a hole.

"I-I can't. I have plans. Maybe we can hang out some other time." His lie is weak and unbelievable, and it irks me enough that I'm given no choice but to challenge him.

"That's bullshit, Jasper, and we both know it. You're going to evaporate into thin air, just like you have the last two weeks, and I'm going to be left wondering what the hell I did…what I continue to do. Why can't we be friends?"

_Friends_? Did I just say…Jesus Christ.

He growls, and turns away. "I gotta go."

"You're going back _there_ aren't you?" I wince at the misplaced possessiveness I hear dripping from my words.

He walks away without bothering to answer.

Well, that didn't turn out like I planned.

XXXXX

I leave right after Jasper does, heading directly to the backyard to see if he's departed yet for the evening. It must be an auspicious night, because Jasper is just walking from his place to the boat.

I don't try to hide when I catch up to him. He stiffens as soon as he notices me, but keeps moving, only faster now. "Go inside Edward." He warns.

"No."

He swings around, and for a second it looks like he might deck me, but he just stands there seething. "Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes are pleading, and his hands are shaking.

"Doing what?" I hedge.

He groans, pulling his hands through his hair in frustration.

Okay, so ignorance…not such a great idea.

"I want to go," I beg, stumbling over my own feet to keep up with his long, quick strides.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to."

"Why not?" I repeat, while I stagger behind him, intending to get in the boat anyway.

This wasn't at all how I'd pictured this scenario.

He whips around unexpectedly, startling us both. I don't think he realized I'd been that close on his trail. He stares hard, angry, and puzzled at my ruthless persistence.

"Because I need to get laid, Edward!" He yells, bluntly.

"Isn't that what you've been doing for the last two weeks?" I snarl in reply.

_Where did that come from_? Jealous much?

Jumping into the boat, he doesn't humor me with a response. I'm not able to board, since his own landing rocks the boat hard in the thick murky water.

He's latched onto the rope, about to pull it free, but I clutch at his hands. "Please, Jasper," I beseech. "Let me come with you. I promise, if you find what you're looking for, I won't stand in your way."

I just pray that if it comes down to that, I'll be the one he wants. "Please."

He stares at our hands, my fingers woven in between his, gripping so tightly my fingers are neon white in the stark black night.

It seems like long minutes pass by before he finally relents, "Let's go."

Those are the only words spoken while we're in the stillness of the lush surroundings.

But it's okay, because I'm forming my plan of attack, figuring out how I can get Jasper to see me as the one he wants to be with.

I will not lie down in my bed even one more night wondering…_what if_.

* * *

><p>So, it's the dreaded transitional chapter. I know you're probably not thrilled, but I hope you at least understand why it had to be done. There was no way Ed was ready for a relationship before this chapter. The next chapter is the halfway point of this fic, and the momentum will definitely be picking up. The next chapter so happens to be <em>my favorite<em>. Be nice, and I won't make you wait a week for it.

They're on their way back to Sinner's Island so _anything_ can happen. Got any guesses on how long it will take Jas to capsize?

**Important**! On another note, I have off the week of Thanksgiving and a whole month in December from school. I mentioned earlier that during that time I'd like to get to one or more of my other WIP's DONE. I know which one I'd like to work on, but I'm going to let you guys decide. It matters, because if I'm being realistic I'll probably only get to one of these while I'm on break, and I don't have a date in mind that I'll be able to work on the rest. So, if you read any of my other stuff and you have an opinion, please fill in the blank in either a review or a PM:

**Just fucking finish _ already.** (Insert one of the following WIP's: (BM) Burnt Marshmallows, (FF) Finding Forgiveness (J/B), (LS) Love at First Sight, or (XG) The X Games.)

This will give me time to reread the story, dust off my notes, and start thinking about the details before my break begins. I'll let you know next chapter what fic you selected.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to leckadams for buying this story. She just received the chapter on Saturday, and she is letting me post today. **

**Thanks to Layne Faire for beta-ing. I appreciate your services immensely.**

**So, I asked last week which story you'd like me to continue while I'm on break, and I'm thinking that may have backfired on me. I guess I thought it was going to be unanimous. I didn't know which one that would be picked, but I thought it'd be a landslide. Including the many PM's that I received I have over 40 requests and they are almost evenly split between three stories (1****st**** story: 15votes, 2****nd**** story: 14votes, 3****rd**** story: 12votes, 4****th**** story: 4****votes), which means that I'm guaranteed to piss almost 2/3 of you off. I've decided to wait one more week, and give you one last chance to make a request. If you have an opinion please just add it to the bottom of a review you were already intending to give, and if you aren't reviewing, just send me a PM. But if you think your favorite story is going to end up on top. Don't.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.**

Chapter 6

"_Maria, that was fabulous. Thank you." Jeremy praises. Maria blushes shyly, while Tony observes the interaction with apprehension. Maria had been acting awfully strange around the new Sherriff lately. With one last tentative smile in Jeremy's direction, she clears the dessert plates from the table, carrying them into the kitchen._

_Once the door swings shut behind her, Jeremy sighs heavily, staring wearily into his coffee cup._

_Tony presses his warm palm over Jeremy's cold hand lying listless on the table. "You look tired." The physical connection lingers as if Tony forgets where his hand is. When he realizes it, he pulls away quickly. Jeremy stops him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, one that implies 'I understand' and that his concern is appreciated._

"_James and I have been up until dawn every night this week, analyzing every aspect of all six cases. The murderer is immaculate and precise with each killing. He leaves no details behind – except the ones he wants to leave." I shudder at the reminder of our latest evidence._

"_He's taunting me, Tony." Jeremy whispers. The latest girl had been discovered in the direct path of his regular morning jog. The asshole had begun leaving little messages for Jeremy. The fifth girl found had a smiley face drawn on her chest, the sixth-a sad face._

"_Sick fuck." Tony mutters._

"_He's getting cocky." Jeremy pulls on his blond locks, frustration and exhaustion visible in every move._

"_But that's when they start making mistakes, Jere."_

_Jeremy lets Tony's words sink in, and for the first time in weeks he doesn't feel like his smile is forced._

Jasper drags hard on his cigarette, watching me narrowly, like he's trying to figure out what my game is. I hate to break it to him, but I have no game…or plan…or tactic. I don't know what I'm doing, or what I'm going to say. I don't know how to seduce or to flirt. I only know how I feel, and if that's my game, then I can only hope Jasper will succeed soon.

With Jasper's concentration on me, the boat seems to have a mind of its own, steering us through the lush environment, guiding us toward our forbidden destination. I can't seem to steal my eyes away from him, either. In the darkness, he's barely visible, even from the short length of the boat.

Just a few feet away, cloaked in a black, long-sleeved tee and black jeans, he's a tantalizing apparition. His blond waves are the only element about him distinct from the blackness surrounding us.

He's spectacular, and _all_ male.

How am I to persuade this marvelous man to be mine?

That remains the formidable question as we draw nearer to the island. I have no concrete strategy, but I firmly believe that actions speak louder than words, so my only plan of attack is to show him how I feel, instead of telling him. After that, I'll see which way the wind blows, reevaluating the approach if necessary.

He tosses the fiery butt of his cigarette into a rusted canister that looks as ancient as the boat itself. He starts the engine, sitting astride the wooden seat, guiding us through the breezy evening.

I'd been so dazed, I hadn't realized how close we are.

My nerves mount in the span of seconds, stealing my breath away. My knee bounces anxiously, while my mind spews a vile mixture of second thoughts and misgivings. Was it really such a great idea for me to come back here so soon after I'd just accepted such a life-altering oracle?

I haven't seen Jasper for two weeks. Is this the ideal place for me to inform him of my latest epiphany, for us to have the heart-to-heart conversation we so desperately need?

It's too late to back out now.

_We're here_.

I totter on the swaying boardwalk, my legs quivering from an overdose of adrenaline. The bonfire, intimidating in and of itself, is a raging inferno, illuminating the entire beach in its enormity. The heat from the flames can be felt all the way to the dock. My clothes, just moments ago warming me from the unseasonal coolness, are now smothering me.

While we advance toward the fire, I can't prevent my eyes from wandering about the blaze. _I can't stop_ this keen desire to seek out the men that had been here last time; the men that had demonstrated one stunning lesson of flawless technique in the art of sexual pleasure.

Rationally, I know most of the population here has a penchant for the same sex, but I still attempt to scour the beach covertly, not wanting anyone to discover what I'm begging to be a witness to again.

My eyes fall on two women. They're not the same girls from the last time, but they dance a similar tango, with lips, and tongues, and roving hands. I have no interest in their nudity or flagrant display of affection. My body responds as I expect, and I cringe as a shudder of bare-naked contempt rolls down my spine.

How had I never known? The question is inconsequential, basically moot at this point, but I have to shake my head at such a monumental case of denial in the extreme; one that had been overlooked for way too many years.

My eyes continue to cover the area, my search becoming obvious in my desperation to be an eager deponent of their culmination.

A group of on-lookers scatter, causing a gap to open wide enough that it brings the men I've been searching for into full view. They're the same two men from before. They share a beach blanket, lying on their sides, opposite of each other, in a sixty-nine position.

_Fuck_.

I continue walking, but my gait slows considerably, as my greedy eyes never leave the sight before me. I watch while they suck each other's cock, their lips vacuumed tightly around substantial girth. I grow hard as the men's glistening rods slide in and out of their hungry mouths, and the ache in my jeans is a reminder of why I'm here tonight.

I want to do that _with Jasper_.

Jasper is almost to the entrance, and I have to jog to catch up to him. Once I reach him, I automatically grasp onto his hand. He turns around with a glare, so I bestow him with a "_What? You're the one who said…_" look, the guise complete with the innocence of doe eyes.

I wait for him to see through the pretense and shake my hand loose, but he doesn't. In fact, my heart hammers when he actually intertwines his fingers with mine, gripping tightly.

He pushes through the squeaky screen door, and I'm assaulted by the memorable scent of alcohol, sweat, and arousal. It's not as crowded as it had been on my last visit, but we still have to maneuver our way to the bar, bumping and rubbing against horny, shirtless men.

Hands roam over exposed torsos, while they gyrate and grind on one another to a slow, seductive beat. I watch a guy's hands grab the ass of his partner, squeezing the soft globes, before he raises and pulls them roughly against his own hips. I look up, over the shoulder of his partner to see the man's eyes on me. He winks, lasciviously, and a shiver runs through me, but I don't look away.

I'm so preoccupied, I don't realize Jasper has stilled in front of me. Our joined hands run into my crotch, the back of his hand pressing firmly into my erection. I'm not able to discern which one of us moans the loudest, but I'm tempted to hold his hand there until he gets the message.

Unfortunately, he pulls his hand back as if it's caught fire and turns away from me, toward the bar. While he waits for the attention of the bartender, his fingers dive harshly into his hair, grabbing and pulling as they comb through the loose curls. I really wish I could see his face right now, but I smile, wondering what he'd thought of my hardness.

Jasper orders the drinks, and while we wait, he turns around, his eyes roaming the bar. I try not to let it get me down, knowing he's looking for someone else to be with.

"So, um…the…people outside…Do you…y'know…" I trail off lamely.

Jasper turns his full attention to me, smiling impishly. "Do I what? Do I watch them?"

"No," I whisper. "D-Do you ever do…_that_?"

He looks perplexed. "Have sex?"

"Outside," I squeak.

He laughs …he laughs loud and hard. I feel like a total moron, my face heating when his endless mirth continues. I'm glad he thinks I'm so funny.

When his laughter finally dies down, he's able to find the air in his lungs to answer my question. "No, Edward. I don't have sex in front of other people. Those guys and gals get paid for that. They're employees of the bar," he explains between chuckles.

"They only 'perform' on Saturday's durin' the summer, or when there's a special event, like when a ship comes in. A boat came in the night you were here. That's why it was so packed."

"Is this how busy it normally is?"

He looks around, and I watch while his eyes rove again, cursing internally at my foolishness in reminding him that he's not here just to entertain me.

"Yeah…this is." He says quietly. His eyes fall back on me, then quickly divert to the floor.

_Look at me. See how much _I_ want you._

"Jasper…" His eyes dart up, and I'm arrested by the intensity, and the wistfulness of his bright blue gaze. We stare at each other, and anything I was about to say is gone when I become lost in his stare.

The moment is interrupted when our drinks arrive. I'm perturbed for the disturbance, but become grateful when I see that Jasper ordered me a beer instead of the shots he supplied with me last time. I recall the piercing headache and the churning stomach, and I wasn't looking forward to a repeat.

Not only did he order me a beer, but he also chose the brand that I'd been drinking at the party earlier in the evening. It thrills me that he cared enough to pay attention to my preferences.

He passes me the bottle, smirking ruefully when he realizes I've made the distinction. I smile shyly, taking the bottle from his hand, making sure to brush his fingers with mine when I do. His eyes flash to the bottle and he swallows thickly; I'm mesmerized as I watch his Adam's apple bob deliciously.

I definitely have to touch him more.

Jasper and I share a couple of rounds. Conversation picks up while we discuss what we've been up to the last couple of weeks. The atmosphere is light and fun. As Jasper lets his guard down, we get along fantastically. We smile, laugh and communicate. We don't communicate in the manner in which I'd like, but we're getting there.

I'm touching him as often as possible. Some of the contact is inconspicuous, like an innocent bumping of elbows, and then there are more deliberate touches.

At one point, I clutch onto his forearm where it rested on the bar, while I relay a funny story about a run-in I'd had with a goat visiting one of the neighbor's farms.

And each time he hands me a beer, I always make sure my fingers brush his.

He's not immune. Every time I touch him, he pauses when he's speaking, or he watches our fingers mingle. I think he's beginning to wonder what to make of all this.

I can tell that he's trying to brush it off, but as the evening wears it appears he's starting to instigate some of the contact.

In fact, the bartender placed this latest beer close enough for me to pick up myself, but Jasper intercepts it before I can get my hands on it, and I'm sure he does it only to see if I'd touch him again. What other reason could there be?

More importantly, Jasper ceased looking for someone else long ago, and he's inched closer now, allowing our elbows to press together. This last round, though, he's been lost in thought…or battle, and I realize it's time to make my feelings known, and hopefully put an end to both of our misery.

"So, Rosalie says you have a workshop next to your cabin, where you do all your woodworking."

"Did she now?" He still seems distracted. He glimpses at me quickly, then takes a rapt interest in the label of one of my empty bottles.

He looks confused, and I'm getting the impression that maybe he wants to make a move, but doesn't know if it'll be welcome. I want to encourage him and I'm granted the opportunity when an unruly lock of his hair falls in front of his eye.

"I'd really like to see some of the pieces you're working on, if you don't mind. I think you have amazing talent, Jasper," I say his name softly, as my eyes probe his.

"I'm sure you wouldn't…" His breathless statement comes to a complete halt when I raise my hand, slowly pushing the silky strand of hair away from his face. I linger just a split second too long for it to be unintentional, my fingertips grazing his temple and cheek, before my hand falls back to my side.

He gapes at me in obvious conflict. His lips part, and his breathing is labored…just like mine.

"Ed…" He says huskily. His hand lifts, then stops in midair, and it looks like he changing his mind, as his arm drops slightly, but then changes course once again and continues to move up, toward me…

_Finally_.

"_Bonjou_ Jasper." My eyes flicker from Jasper to a dark, handsome man who sidles into his side. I'm forced to back up, to give this intruder room to rudely insert himself between us. He kisses Jasper on the cheek. "I heard you've been looking for me _chéri_. _Mo chagren,_ I had some business out of town that lasted way too long, but I'm here for you now."

There's no doubt in my mind that this is exactly who Jasper has been attempting to hunt down this evening.

How can I compete with this? With him?

He's not overly tall, maybe an inch or so shorter than my height, and built superbly. His skin is a golden russet, and his eyes are as dark as the silky black hair that cascades just over his shoulders. The accent and timbre in his voice could have been dipped in molten sex.

If this is the type of guy Jasper is into, I don't stand a chance.

I'm his polar opposite.

I'm pale, too thin…plain looking. It's like a pail of ice cold water has just been poured over me.

_Jesus, what was I thinking_? I'm way out of Jasper's league. The idea that I could steal him away from this creature is _devastatingly_ laughable.

Jasper stares at me, as if he's waiting for me to do something…or say something, but what is there for me to say? I look toward the bar, toward the dance floor, anywhere but at these two lovers.

_I promised him_.

It galls me, and I wish like hell I could take it back, but I promised him that if he found what he was looking for I wouldn't stand in his way.

I finally meet his perplexed gaze.

"Go ahead. I'll be fine here." I strive to sound strong, unfazed, but fail when my voice cracks.

He looks stunned, like I've slapped him or something…and then, his face distorts into a look of pure disdain.

And we are officially back to square one.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Jasper?" The man has finally acknowledged me.

Jasper twists around to the bar, guzzling the amber liquid remaining in his glass, and then slamming it down onto the bar. There's a long pause before he turns back to us, and when he does his face is blank, and his sky-blue orbs are _empty_, focusing on something…probably anything, over my shoulder. "Jacob this is Edward, he's stayin' at Rosalie's for the summer. Edward this is Jacob, he's a _friend_ of mine," he states, tiredly.

Jacob wraps one arm around Jasper's waist, while his other hand massages his chest in a comforting, yet very intimate way. "Pleased to meet you Edward. I hope you're enjoying your stay here in Bon Terre."

_I was before you showed up._

I can't find my voice, so I smile weakly, and give a supporting nod.

His pearly white smile falls back to Jasper. "Come dance with me _chéri_. I've missed you so."

Jasper continues to evade my gaze. He brushes my chest, when he hurries past, "I'll be back," he mutters.

"Yeah," I whisper, but he never hears. He's already gone.

I should face the bar…drown my sorrows in an abundance of liquor and sad regret, but I can't tear my eyes away while Jasper is led out onto the dance floor. Unfortunately, they don't go deep enough into the crowd, and I'm given a perfect view.

I'd rather gouge my eyes out than watch him with another, but looking away from the beauty that is Jasper has always been a fruitless endeavor, and to my dismay this time is no exception.

Jasper wraps his arms around Jacob's slender waist, while Jacob drapes his arms lazily over Jasper's shoulders. Jasper pulls him closer, so that their hips are joined.

Jealousy rips through me, shredding my heart with its bitter strength.

To think that I'd thought I'd have a chance to be with someone like Jasper. My body screams in outrage at my pathetic notions. Grave doses of mortification threaten to destroy me, while I bear witness to my greatest humiliation.

Watching the scene in front of me is justice for such foolhardiness.

They rock back and forth against each other, as the thump, thump, thumping of the music filters through the speaker system. Jacob lowers his hands, toying with the hem of Jasper's shirt, then graces him with a mischievous smile. Jasper hesitates, looking undecided for a moment…

_Don't do it_.

But it's a fit punishment when he raises his arms gradually up over his head so Jacob can remove his shirt. Once it's halfway up, Jacob leans in to pepper kisses along Jasper's splendidly formed pecs. Once the shirt is doffed, Jasper quickly turns Jacob around, pressing his lover's bronzed back against his chest in a crushing embrace, while burying his face in crook of his neck.

Jacob bends slightly, pushing his ass back into Jasper's crotch. Jasper grinds on him, hard and needy, emulating the act of passion. His actions are emphatic, and soulful, allowing me insight on how wonderful of a lover he would be - something I'd already suspected.

Jacob lifts his own shirt over his head, then stuffs both of their tops in his jeans pocket. One of Jasper's hands rests at Jacob's low-riding waistband, and I follow the other hand as it skims over his chiseled abs and pebbled nipples. When I look back up at Jasper, his heated eyes are on me.

_How much more can I take_?

I feel a fire in my eyes when tears begin to sting, and I fight to keep them in. I can't possibly embarrass myself more than I already have. Will I leave this place with any dignity at all?

Jacob turns in Jasper's arms, kissing him for all he's worth. "Oh, God…_no_…" I whimper. I turn to face the bar, not able to handle anymore, and practically run right into the guy that approached me the last time I was here…Seth.

Now,_ he_ had wanted me.

"Hey." I say feebly, beaten and numb.

"Hey there sweetness. I'm sorry, but I didn't get to learn your name the last time you visited."

"It's Edward," I choke out, still affected by Jasper and Jacob's public displays of affection.

"You look like you could use a drink," he surmises. Without waiting for a response, he signals for the bartender. While Seth waits for the man's attention, I seize the opportunity to really look at him.

With different eyes this time. _With gay eyes_.

He's actually really good looking, fit…and those gorgeous eyes, but he just isn't what my heart had been hoping for.

"I see you've met Jacob," he notes, catching me gawking at the couple on the dance floor, their faces buried in each other's necks. "Or Jasper's other half," he adds, almost resentfully.

I glance at Seth, confused by the moroseness I hear in his voice. "I thought they were just _friends_." It sounds stupid to my own ears, because even _I_ know better than that.

"Friends with bens. Have been for years," he verifies.

"Why aren't they together?" I don't like gossip, but I want…no, I need to hear the details, no matter how horrid they may be.

"Well, I can't tell you anything that isn't already common knowledge, but they aren't 'together-together' because neither of them is into relationships. They both have the same objective…physical pleasure. Jasper had a boyfriend a few years back. He was _in love_," He draws out the last two words, as if being in love is just a myth.

"I don't know the all the deets, but it boiled down to Alec, his ex, being too afraid to come out of the closet. He kept promising Jasper he would, but he never did. Alec ended up shunning him in front the townsfolk one night, pretending like he didn't even know him."

"What an asshole," I hiss, thoroughly insulted on Jasper's behalf.

"Jasper was pissed, but he was in love. He'd have given him a second chance, but Alec decided he didn't want one. He broke it off with Jasper and ended up marrying a woman six months later. Apparently, come to find out later, he'd been seeing the chick on the side the entire time. Jasper never showed weakness, though. You couldn't even tell he was hurting, but he's never let anyone else in…not like he had with Alec. He and his wife live in a town not far from here. I hear Jasper still runs into the dickhead on occasion," he sighs, running a hand through his short black hair.

"Now, Jacob, he travels a lot, and if he's in town you'll most likely find him at the wharf loading or unloading cargo. He imports products by boat to and from Bon Terre. He's gone for days, weeks, and sometimes months at a time, depending on what he's transporting."

He pauses, and we both look to see Jasper's blond hair disappear as he's being tugged toward the back of the bar. I don't need a lot of imagination to know what they'll be doing now, and it causes the fissures in my heart to rupture.

When I look back at Seth, he's still watching their retreating figures. "Jacob doesn't make it a secret that he sees other men while he's gone sailing, and Jasper…well, he's been with a _few_ other's over the years, but it's very rare for him. He and Jacob are close, and it would be mighty hard to break that bond, if it's even possible. They don't have any claim on each other, but they have some kind of understanding. When Jacob's here, Jasper doesn't see anyone else, and vice-versa."

This most likely means that Jasper hasn't been with anyone since I arrived, but I didn't want to have that clarified…just in case my assumption isn't true.

"Why does he go to others if he has Jacob?"

"As far as I know, it's been a real long time since Jasper's been with someone else, but Jacob only bottoms, which works out well since he's a top. However, the few times I've seen him with someone else he's with another top, so it leads me to believe that Jasper occasionally likes to catch."

I'm almost sure I'm a bottom.

I've only ever been a top, and that's just been disastrous, but if I knew that Jasper was going to stray in order to be fucked, I would top him in a heartbeat.

If circumstances were different…if he actually wanted me, if he wasn't on a completely different scale, and if I lived here, I'd make sure he never required the company of anyone else.

"Oh honey." Seth cups my cheek, peering at me with green eyes full of sympathy. "This isn't doing anyone any good." His thumb glides underneath my eye, stealing away a tear that had escaped.

"I don't know much about you, but I have great instincts about people. I can tell you're a good man, and God knows you're absolutely gorgeous. If Jasper doesn't see that, then it's his loss. Don't stare at someone who doesn't want you. Look around, Edward. You'll be amazed to see how many other people are out there waiting for a chance to be with you." His thumb strokes my cheekbone, his eyes are fixed on my lips.

_He_ wants me.

"I'm not saying this just because I want to hook up with you. 'Cause I do. I really do. I just hate to see someone so beautiful hurting so."

He moves closer, preparing to kiss me.

_He_ wants me.

I should try this. I need to prove that this _is_ who I really am. I've been anxious for my first male kiss. I wanted so badly for it to be Jasper, but that's just not in the cards for me. So, when Seth's lips descend, my eyes shut.

I feel his hot breath, right before his soft lips cover mine. They're warm and moist, spawning an instant fluttering in the pit of my stomach. He presses lightly once, twice, then, by the third, he holds the kiss for a little longer. He captures my top lip in between his own, and then my bottom, sucking them lightly into his mouth. My lips part in invitation, and he slips his tongue inside my mouth. The contact feels so foreign; it's been so long.

My arms are still at my sides, but they're itching to touch him. He has a shirt on today, but I remember the piercing he has, and I wonder if it'd be okay to touch it through the thin fabric of his tee.

His hands lay gently on my hips, not forcing anything on me, letting it happen naturally. I tilt my head, my tongue venturing deeper into his mouth...

Until, suddenly…it's not.

I'm confused, and I don't understand why he's pulled away from me. I open my eyes to see a beautifully disheveled, and very livid, Jasper bearing down on Seth. "Do you have any idea how much he's had to drink?" He bellows.

He looks dangerous, and so shamefully magnificent.

He eyes me with undisguised derision. "I can't leave you alone for five fuckin' minutes. It's time to go back." Jasper's t-shirt is back on, but his fly is open, displaying a wedge of tantalizing, hairless flesh.

Commando, and shaved.

Kill me now, because Jasper is _surely_ going to be the death of me.

He sees me eyeing the opening in his pants, looking down he quickly zips and buttons up.

Before I can even look back at Seth to say 'thank you' or 'goodbye' Jasper grabs my arm, hauling ass out of there, and dragging me behind him down the beach.

On my way out, I can't help but feel eyes burning into my head. I look around, my search coming to a halt when I find Jacob - giving me a look that could kill.

Jasper's face is flushed, his eyes are dark and furious, and there's a hardness to his jaw that tells me he hasn't found the relief he'd been searching for tonight.

I feel really bad that I'm ecstatic about that.

"What the fuck were you doin' in there? Did you happen to forget you aren't gay, Edward?" He rants.

"But, I am gay."

"No, you're not. You're drunk," he says, disgustedly.

We board the boat and I'm barely seated before the motor roars to life. He sits silently, brooding while he steers the boat into the darkness.

I watch as the island disappears from sight, allowing my thoughts to inevitably land on the kiss Seth and I shared. I touch my lips, still feeling a tingly sensation. It was nice, pleasant…definitely arousing. I wouldn't say it was earth shattering or anything, but it was a hell of a lot nicer than kissing Bella.

"You were married, for fuck's sake! You just don't start kissin' boys!" He explodes. I pull my hand away from my lips, knowing that my actions more than likely set off his short temper.

"I've always been gay," I inform him - so ineloquently, at exactly the wrong time - and in exactly the wrong place.

How come things never go the way I envision them? This is, quite possibly, the worst scenario for this.

"You're wasted, Edward," he says, condescendingly, like I don't know my own fucking mind.

"You don't understand!" I shout. "You don't understand what it's like to be with women and not know why you can't satisfy them. Why after sex, the tension never leaves your body. You don't understand what it's like to be married, but be so fucking lonely. It never felt good. It never felt right. I needed to know, Jasper. I don't have any feelings for Seth, but that kiss…felt…right," I cry out, the hidden pains of my past pouring from me in a torrent.

He huffs, but doesn't say anything else.

One thing did turn out exactly how I'd imagined; Jasper doesn't believe me.

XXXXX

The bayou, like always, brings with it an inexplicable peacefulness. I sit back, allowing the languid calmness to buzz pleasantly through my veins. In the middle of the wetlands, it'd be easy to believe Jasper and I are the only two people in the world.

Oh, if it were only the case…

Then, he'd want me.

We have approximately five more minutes before we dock and there is no way that I can leave it like this. Because, I know, as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, if I don't fix this somehow…someway, I won't see Jasper again for weeks. After tonight's revelations, I don't know if I'd survive another disappearance.

I need to try one more time. I need him to tell me straight to my face he doesn't want me. I may be crushed, I may not come out of my room for a couple of days, I may not even make it out of bed…

But he's worth the risk.

I want him.

I want to spend the rest of my days in Bon Terre learning everything there is to know about him. I want to know his favorite color, his favorite movie, which shoe he puts on first. I want to take trips to the bayou during the day, go on dates, watch movies…just talk, touch and kiss, and at night…Jesus, at night I want to _lay_ with him.

I want Jasper to be my first, and when I leave, I'll depart this place knowing what it's like to really be _in_ love. The heart pounding, thrill seeking, earth shattering kind of love. There's no doubt Jasper can give me that, even if he can't feel the same for me in return.

It kills me that Alec ruined Jasper for anyone else. I can't imagine having Jasper's love and devotion, only to throw it away. I know if I were given that precious gift, I'd never let it go.

It's just as well Jasper's not able to relinquish his heart.

It doesn't even matter that, in a month's time, I'll leave this quaint town, the mystery of the bayou, the seductive island…Jasper. I'm like a moth to the flame. I can't stay away from the danger.

I'd be lying to myself if I said Jasper doesn't already hold my heart in the palm of his hand. Being my first real love, he'll always be a standard I fear no other man will ever live up to.

"You didn't get what you went for," I surmise, my voice full of tenderness. Even though it pleases me that Jasper didn't finish the deed with Jacob tonight, I still don't delight in seeing him frustrated or troubled.

He snorts, "How the hell was that going to happen when I have to baby-sit you?"

"I told you I'd be fine."

"Yeah, you did, didn't you?" He retorts, disgustedly.

"So, you can't blame it on me."

"But I can, Edward, since you _are_ very much the reason I'm in the state that I'm in."

Hope bursts in my chest. There is no mistaking the true meaning of his words.

Oh God, _please_…

"If I'm the reason, then come to me, Jasper. I'll give you what you need," I promise.

He spins angrily, wrapping the rope around the platform, before exiting the boat as if it's on fire. "Don't say things like that. You're drunk."

I chase after him. "Don't try to tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I didn't understand it at first, but now I do."

"Stop!" He yells, pulling at his hair.

I draw up behind him, placing my hand on his shoulder, but he jumps away. He turns, watching me warily, expecting me to lunge at any moment.

"Please…I want you so badly." I go for broke, letting my heart hang out on a limb…a very ragged, twisted, battered limb.

I didn't want it to go this far, I didn't want it to boil down to me throwing myself at him, but I won't back down now. I've come too far not to finish what I've started. If I walk away now, this will be the last time I see him - guaranteed.

"Shut up Edward," he warns in a low, threatening voice.

"I want you to make love to me, Jasper," I whisper.

"I said to shut – the – fuck - up." He's latched onto my shirt, and with each word he's pushing me, not stopping until my back collides with a tree. Our lips crash together, our mouths opening instantaneously.

Passion and lust ignite, the long anticipated kiss turning brutal. Needing too much, for too long, I do my part to ravage his mouth, plundering, biting and drawing blood. My imagination has been out of control this week, when, time after time, climax after striking climax, I envisioned Jasper and I in similar situations, but just kissing him outweighs even the most primitive visuals I'd conjured.

The turmoil building in my abdomen, the chaos wreaking complete mayhem in my chest, the intense heat and throb in my groin; none of it could ever have been fantasized accurately by someone so immature in the art of sexual gratification as I am.

What a first kiss.

This kiss signifies all that I'd discovered about Jasper: his strength, his passion, his intensity, fervor and power. It's all present in this blistering, mind-numbing kiss.

I'm not sure how it happened, but my outer, button-down shirt is lying at our feet, and Jasper's hands are working their way up my t-shirt, roaming urgently over my stomach and chest.

I'm breathless, and unbelievably overwhelmed, but I wouldn't stop this for anything in the world. My hands grasp and claw at his back, hanging on for dear life, while his lips assault my neck; sucking hard, licking, scraping and nipping at my skin until it feels raw and awakened.

He can't get enough, and I'm about to combust.

I buck into him, letting him feel my need, hissing when I feel his in return. Jasper growls, stopping his ministrations on my nipples, to chuck my t-shirt. He cups my ass roughly, pushing our erections against each other once again. The full-fledged sensory overload causes my legs to almost collapse beneath me.

Safely anchored between Jasper and the tree, I wrap my legs around his midsection, locking them at the ankles. My steely erection nuzzles into the softness of his stomach, but he grips my waist, pushing down until our dicks are aligned perfectly.

His hips rock hardcore into mine over and over, driving me senseless. I thrash against the tree, the heady feeling I always get back here consumes me. This time, though, it is so much more fucking intense…because this is Jasper.

He lowers his hot, sexy mouth, flicking my nipple with his tongue, and I cry out. My head lulls back when he takes the bud between his lips.

He sips at the nub, then pulls away quickly. "Fuck Ed…" he grates. I open my eyes, but I don't lift my head from the tree, staring at him from under my lashes.

"So, fuck…_gorgeous_." His last word is only mouthed.

Clutching at the back of Jasper's shirt, I rip it over his head, flinging it to the forest's floor. I pull him closer, my belly rolling in a wave of unadulterated desire when our naked chests finally meet.

Skin against skin, heat upon heat, I cling to him with helpless abandon.

My mouth searches for his, and he opens his lips to me willingly. I lap at his flavor, loving the textures, and the taste.

He rubs kiss, upon scorching kiss against my lips, diving in deep, searching for hidden treasures.

"God, Edward. You taste so fuckin' good. I knew it…I knew you would," he exclaims against my lips. He's panting for breath, just as I am.

He groans, as if he's in pain. "I-I just can't…get enough." He returns for more, his mouth ravishing mine once again.

After long moments, we break apart, suffocating…gasping for breath. We stare at each other while hands never cease their tireless exploration and hips undulate sinuously, smashing our swollen cocks together in a rhythm older than time.

The wind suddenly begins howling, creating a tempest of leaves and twigs to rustle around us as I fall apart in his arms.

I'm so very close, every touch is electric, every look and kiss tearing fatal holes into my diminishing resistance. I struggle desperately to hold on to what's left of my stamina. I don't want this to end…_ever_.

I press his face in between my hands in total awe of his beauty and strength. "You're so beautiful, Jas," I croak.

His eyes roll, and with renewed vigor, he props me up higher, before splaying his hands across my chest. We both watch his movements, while he drags his open palms from collarbone to hipbone.

Reaching the waistband of my jeans, he pops the button.

"Oh, God," I pray.

"Can I touch you, Edward?" He breathes.

"God…fuck, yes!" I cry. I'll die right here if he doesn't.

With deft fingers, his hand delves into my jeans and boxers, freeing my straining member. "Oh no…Oh my God…I-I…"

My back arches when he engulfs my rigid length in his hot fist, and we both watch when he begins to jack me off. I'm whimpering, moaning, and I think I might even weep a little, while he pumps my shaft in a sick tempo.

"You look so hot like this, Edward. Cum for me, goddammit."

Each time he passes it, he squeezes my engorged head, grazing the moist tip with his thumb, all the while shoving his rock hard dick into my cloth covered ass, pressing against me in just the right spot.

I'm spiraling out of control, my orgasm rushing forward like a freight train in the middle of the desert. With no other choice but to succumb to the promising unparalleled bliss, I don't just let go into the best orgasm of my existence…

I free-fall.

When I come back down from my high, I'm a quivery, trembling mess. I lift my lids to find Jasper watching me with wide, feral eyes…two fingers hanging from his mouth.

Fuck, I missed him eating my cum.

"Jesus, Edward,…you're exquisite…when you cum…oh, my God…," Jasper rasps, while his momentum picks up, and he hammers against my ass. His breath is choppy, his legs beginning to shake from exertion.

"Is this where you want me? Do you want my dick in your ass?"

"Yes, Jasper. Yes, I want you to fuck me…just like this…" I pant, loving the sensations of his rod poking and prodding against my ass, stimulating my semi-hard cock into making a comeback.

His head falls back, and his eyes flare wide before clenching shut. He roars, stiffening against me, riding out his ecstasy.

And it's the most glorious thing I've ever witnessed.

He falls against me, leaning into the tree and me, gasping while we wait for our breathing to even out. Once it does, he pulls away slowly, allowing me time to drop my cramped legs from his waist.

Suddenly, he becomes shy and fidgety. He picks up our shirts, handing me mine.

"You better go in now, there's a storm comin'," he predicts. I look up through the dense trees and there isn't a cloud to be found, but I concede.

"Okay."

He half turns to walk away, but I want a proper goodbye, so I lay my hand on his arm. "Jas?"

He turns back around, and without voicing my need, we come together into a heart-melting kiss.

I pull away by fractions. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah…sure."

I watch him walk until he disappears into the darkness. I practically skip into the inn, excited for what's to come.

I take off my shoes, heading straight to my window.

I don't know how he knew, but while the thunder rumbles, lightning strikes, and heavy raindrops blur my view, my eyes never stray from the spot under the tall oak tree where I had the most gratifying sexual encounter of my existence.

**So first of all…what did you think? Holy moly.**

**Secondly, did you honestly think it's going to be that easy? Can you already envision all of the potential roadblocks ahead for these two? Between Jacob, Seth, Alec, and the distance…not to mention Jasper's unrelenting stubbornness and Edward's naivety it'll be a miracle if these two can make this work. Which do you think is going to be their biggest hurdle?**

**Thirdly, don't forget: BM, LS, FF, or XG**


	7. Chapter 7

**Leckadams** bought this story, and donated to a great cause. She also ended up to be a pre-reader for this chapter. So, thanks for answering my questions.

As I told reviewers, this is the first detour the story is taking. Due to all of the comments on the last chapter I decided to veer off course and give you this sneak peak into what happened at the bar that night with Jasper and Jacob. This will answer a lot of the questions and concerns. Thank you for all of the wonderful words, I read and take each one into consideration. You guys help me fill in the gaps. I've made alterations to the story, and created this bonus chapter because of them. So keep 'em coming, and I'll keep on responding with replies, amendments to the story, and bonus chapters as seen fit.

**And the winner is…**

**THE X GAMES!**

The winner hadn't changed from chapter 5 to chapter 6, and the votes were almost just as close. The X Games beat out Burnt Marshmallows by TWO votes, and Love at First Sight was a close third, only six votes behind the leader. Thanks to everyone that had an opinion. I'm so glad that all three stories are liked equally.

FYI – there is a good chance I could finish both XG and BM, since the X Games could go a variety of different ways. I had several different scenarios lined up for that one. So, once I re-read it I'll be able to decide which route I want to go with the boys,but** I want to warn you that if there was ever a worse threat of a non-HEA from me - - it will be THAT story. **It may be 1 more chapter long or it could be 3-4 more chapters long. SO put it on alert, and you should see the continuation sometime in December.

**Layne Faire **is the bestest beta

Thanks to **kkcats**, I couldn't respond to you review since you have turned your PM's off. I appreciate the kind words.

Disclaimer – I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. As far as I know, Bon Terre doesn't exist, but it should – it sounds like a really cool place.

**Bonus Chapter**

**Jacob POV**

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I close my eyes, lift my face, and allow myself a moment to bake under the simmering Louisiana sun.

It's a beautiful day to be back home.

The dock is busy; many ships have come in this day, meaning tomorrow will be a long grueling day of schmoozing with the vendors. They'll be here bright and early looking for ridiculous deals on merchandise I've procured on my latest journey.

I cringe in distaste at some of the antics I'm forced to perform, but the price is small when it allows me to do what I want, when I want.

Although I'd had my share of company during my expedition, it's been a draining, lonely two months.

I've been traveling with my cousin, and lackey, Diego for a year now. I used to make the trips alone, not trusting anyone else to complete tasks exactly how I required them to be done. Then, last summer, Diego requested to accompany me on a two-week business excursion/drinking binge. My trips have always been a grand mixture of business and pleasure, so we set out to find massive quantities of both.

And that we did. We'd partied in excess, but during this adventure, Diego also proved to be a reliable extra hand, and I finally recognized the merits of having an assistant. I'd offered him the position at a fair wage, and he gladly accepted.

I also share _compagnie_ of different men at each port, and I look forward to seeing each and every one of them when I sail through their towns, but there's nothing better than being at home with my family and true _amis_.

Traveling is becoming wearisome. I'll be careful in the future not to take such lengthy, extended voyages. It's come time to start limiting my business to a couple of weeks at a time - tops.

Unloading the spoils from my latest venture, I don't feel that familiar joy in my abundant success, but instead a tired relief. I want my mama's crawfish stew, and to watch a baseball game on a TV with decent reception. I want to tease my little sister until she's red in the face and mad as a hornet.

And, after that's all said and done, I want to have Jasper's dick buried so deep in my ass that I choke on it. We may not even make it to the comfort of my _bâteau_ before I swallow that magnificent cock of his.

Sounds like the perfect welcome home to me.

I redouble my efforts, setting up an impeccable display of the various commodities I'd acquired, in preparation for tomorrow's sale. The serious merchants will be here right at the break of dawn, and the better the merchandise is presented, the faster it sells. That's why I take great measures to make certain the tables are clean, the boxes are stacked neatly, and the silver and gold is polished to a bedazzled shine.

Some of my competition would do well to learn such tricks of this trade. Their slobbish ways warrant the waste of a perfectly good afternoon, when they are forced to barter the same trinkets I'd divested for higher prices earlier in the morn.

"Are you goin' to the island tonight?" A familiar voice calls out from the dock. I recognize the distinct tenor of my old classmate, and fellow 'bottom'.

For shame, because he's definitely a portrait of beauty, however, no matter how gorgeous he is, I only ever go one way.

Garrett's not one I'd consider a friend, more of an acquaintance I choose to keep at close range, so I can track his moves.

I watch my competition with a hawk's eye.

Jasper and I are 'exclusive' when we're both in the general vicinity of Bon Terre, but he's free to see whomever he so desires while I'm sailing. Maintaining a 'friendship' with Garrett ensures he'll not be available should Jasper be inclined.

It's not that I give two flying fucks who Jasper chooses to fill while I'm away, but if I have a say in the matter, I'd rather not have him hook up with someone I'd consider equal or better than myself, and Garrett is a lovely specimen. All that soft wavy brown hair, big chocolate eyes, dark red lips, and perfect _derrière_…no, I had to make sure Jasper couldn't touch him.

"Of course, dear." I purr. "Why do you ask?"

"Jasper's been searching for you for well over a month now. Don't you give the man your number?" The curiosity in his voice is unmistakable. I've never given him, or anyone else, details about the nature of our involvement. It's none of their business, but Jasper and I don't make it a practice to communicate while I'm gone.

That resembles too much of a relationship.

"Has he now? Well, phone calls really aren't our style, but he'll see me tonight. I'll find out then why he's so urgently seeking me out." I wink, feeling even more excitement for our rendezvous tonight.

_My boy's horny, huh_? It suits me fine, for my urges are rather large as well. I chuckle, thinking Jasper is way too picky for his own good. He needs to expand the selection of his lovers.

He abstains for way too long when I'm inaccessible.

However, a desperate Jasper always makes for a very satisfying encounter.

"It doesn't matter now. He's probably already found what he was looking for." Garrett studies his nails, feigning disinterest in the topic.

"Why do you say that?" I mirror his relaxed attitude.

"Looks like he had a date last week. He was real cozy with someone I'd never seen before…and I'd remember a guy like that if I had," he supposes, smiling puckishly.

I seethe internally, witnessing the wicked gleam in his eye, wondering if this bitch is playing _my_ game.

But my thoughts scatter at the information the _haria_ provided.

Jasper had a date..._with a stranger, _no less.

I want to blow it off…I really do. Jasper very rarely ever drifts. Even now, he feels guilty about sticking that gorgeous dick into some random ass. If he found a nice piece while I'd been away, that's his prerogative. However, I don't like his men being thrown in my face by the likes of Garrett, who could match me in the ability to get and keep any man he wanted…for as long as he wanted.

"No worries, _ami_. Jasper can see whomever he chooses while I'm away, so long as he stays out of the circle."

Jasper and I have an arrangement that suits us both famously.

We began seeing each other a couple of years ago. The resident bottoms squealed in delight when gossip surfaced that Jasper and Alec were no more. I'd been the first to pounce, and naturally it hadn't taken long for Jasper to capsize under my irresistible charms.

I have ways of getting whatever I want; I'm not ashamed or guilty of that skill.

Jasper and I had gotten along for quite a few months without any commitments or rules, but that had been ruined after one evening.

Jasper had arrived at the island completely vulnerable…and horny as hell. Although he was adept at concealing his broken heart with the others, I easily saw through his façade. I'd already latched onto another lucky bastard for the evening, but Jasper looked so pathetic, trying to hold his head up high and pretend he didn't care none about the stupid asshole that dropped him like a hot potato. I couldn't possibly say 'no' when I knew that pent-up aggression meant he'd fuck me through the mattress. It'd been no contest. When I'd let the other guy down he threw a hissy fit, and I couldn't blame him.

After that uncomfortable scene, Jasper and I had made the tentative commitment to only be with each other when we were both in the area.

The decision had been tough one. I'd been accustomed to a wide assortment of men, and wasn't sure if monotony – even if only in Bon Terre – would work for me, but after two years I've not regretted it.

We'd only had a few more discussions over the years to amend our agreement to fit our budding needs. One of those conversations had led to the creation of a rule that if either of us strayed while the other was out of town it wouldn't be with anyone in our 'circle of friends'.

Which is why I smile sweetly at the exasperating man in front of me.

"I'm glad it doesn't bother you, 'cause let me tell you - he's some kind of hottie. I'm not sure I'd be okay with that," he claims. I feel suspiciously like I'm being baited, but I keep cool.

That's my specialty.

My pa taught me how to hide my emotions, to never show weakness, but to find these detriments in others and manipulate them for my own purposes. I've discovered this works well in business and in pleasure, but I've yet to find these faults in Garrett.

I shrug, confident I can motivate Jasper to forget about this silly fling.

Because he's one of the best lovers I've ever had, I think about Jasper now and then during my travels, but it's not until I reach the shores of Bon Terre that I crave his touch, desire his thick, beautiful schlong. I have plans that have him cumming all night long; by midnight he won't remember this boy Garrett mentions so cattily.

"He even left with him," he adds.

Garrett seems to be on a roll, since that one visibly causes me pause. I think I actually flinch, because his smirk grows wide and full, revealing his perfect white teeth.

_That can't be true_.

Jasper doesn't leave with anyone, not since Alec…and that includes me. Not that I'd want to see Jasper's quaint cabin, or fall into the bed he sleeps in. The _lit_ in my _bâteau's_cabin proves to be quite comfortable for our extracurricular activities.

I'll show this pompous ass who Jasper really belongs to.

I remember our last meeting. Jasper was an eager participant, as always. If the passion had fizzled out…if he was getting bored with our arrangement, or if his needs or wants were shifting, I would have sensed it.

What could have changed so drastically in two months' time?

XXXXX

Red hair? Seriously? This has to be a sick joke.

That skinny, pale boy is supposedly my competition…the person that's going to steal Jasper away from me. He's not a 'hottie', as Garrett had suggested, but a scrawny duckling.

I'll give the _gens_ the eyes though…a sparkling jade that can be seen clearly from the full longitude of the island's only establishment.

I observe the two of them from a safe spot, surreptitiously evaluating the situation. At first glimpse, I don't see any cause for concern. Jasper has no idea I'm back home, so he's free to converse with this guy, but I fear Jasper's desperation has reached an all-time high.

This boy is definitely not Jasper's type. I know all five of the men that Jasper's had sex with since we've been together. I'm not ashamed to admit I keep tabs on him in my absence.

My true _amis_ keep me informed of who he's been with. While it's of no real consequence who Jasper screws, it's still a reflection on me, and therefore my business to know.

So far, the men Jasper had previously been with are handsome, virile 'tops', and I thoroughly approved of them all, even having been with a couple of them myself. But I'd bet tomorrow's earnings that this lanky boy definitely falls under the ranks of 'firm bottoms', and he's not physically appealing at all.

The pair sits awfully close together, almost intimately…like they're sharing illicit secrets. Jasper sneaks meaningful glances at the pale boy when he isn't looking, wistfully gazing at him while he guzzles his beer. I recognize the want and lust in Jasper's soulful eyes, having witnessed it firsthand hundreds of times, but there's something else there, something I can't put a name on…maybe longing…maybe even something more.

I'll stick with longing. My boy is sick with need.

The pale boy pushes a lock of hair from Jasper's face, and now it's time to make an appearance before Jasper commits himself to something he won't be able to follow through on.

My stride increases when I see Jasper raise his own hand, intending to give the boy hope where there isn't any…at least not tonight.

I can't let him do that…I'm not that cruel.

_Not yet, anyway_.

"_Bonjou_ Jasper," I say, silkily. Slipping between the two of them, I place a gentle kiss on Jasper's supple cheek.

"I heard you've been looking for me, _chéri_. _Mo chagren,_ I had some business out of town that lasted way too long, but I'm here for you now." He continues to stare at the pale boy. When his gaze finally lands on me, I'd have expected a look of unadulterated lust, maybe one of profound relief, but absolutely not the tight-lipped smile he bestows on me.

So, I grin sweetly, while sizing this boy up at a closer range. _Had I missed something spectacular from a distance_?

Pale? It looks as if he powders himself. _Maybe he has bad skin_. His messy hair is a combination of reds and browns, and I hope for his sake that he doesn't pay for this look. Long strands of hair sticking up and out, like he'd just tumbled out of bed. Lord, he couldn't even bother to put a brush through it?

But those eyes…

I avert my gaze when my thoughts can be mistakenly construed as jealousy, which _is_ _not_ the case.

I'm not jealous. I don't get jealous…_ever_. I'm possessive of what I own, and while I'm here I own Jasper…in that, I'm sure.

I adore the relationship I've cultivated with him, and I'm not prepared for that to change. I must have faith that he won't renege on our agreement, and two years of history, for a _gens_ that can't even compare to me - in looks or in bed.

I'm voraciously arrogant, and rightfully so, because I can back it up.

I know what Jasper likes, what keeps him on his toes, what keeps him coming back for more…and more.

Jasper tests my unfailing patience when his eyes remain transfixed on the pale boy, rudely ignoring me while I stand by his side, giving myself to him.

"Go ahead. I'll be fine here." The man finally speaks, his gaze falling to the floor. His voice cracks; he gives in way too easily.

He wants Jasper - that much is for certain.

On one hand, I'm surprised because I'd anticipated more of a rumble, and I'd been looking forward to demonstrating my dominance over the beautiful man next to me. On the other hand, I give the _gens_ credit. He's smart then - aware of the futility and danger of stepping between me and what I want.

Yet it doesn't stop his words from grating on me. Who is he to grant permission for Jasper to go with me? Did he really think he wouldn't have come with me without his acquiesce?

A dark feeling surrounds me when I take in Jasper's features.

Desire, disappointment, anger, yearning…duped, and then blatant disgust at the pale boy's quick compliance.

Jasper had wanted him to fight.

_Keep your enemies close boy._ My pa's words never fail to remind me.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Jasper?" I inquire, amiably.

Jasper twists away from me, facing the bar. He's aware that I'm a master at reading faces, so is he attempting to hide something from me? Can he really be into this _personne_?

When he turns back, I have my answers.

He is. _Very much so_.

Observing Jasper for these last two years has given me an inside track to his thoughts. The telltale signs that Jasper can't look at him as he introduces us…the way his face becomes a wall…so blank and uncaring while he speaks the words, translates his emotions so clearly.

I haven't seen Jasper so confused…so _lost…_in over a year.

The pale boy…_Edward_, is tying Jasper in knots.

For unknown reasons he's attracted to the gangly _gens_, but from the tension surrounding us, I'd wager nothing has happened between the two of them…yet.

So, Jasper states Edward is a guest at the inn. It's a sudden and unwelcomed realization that a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

_That's why they had left together_.

Feeling secure with that knowledge, I loosen up, smiling genuinely, and wrapping my arm around Jasper's slim waist. "Pleased to meet you Edward. I hope you're enjoying your stay here in Bon Terre."

Frustration blazes in his eyes before he fakes a smile.

_Sorry about your luck_.

I should probably pity the poor guy. I'm sure there might be another man here willing to comfort him, maybe I could even send one over his way to keep him company while Jasper and I take care of some business.

I scan the dance floor looking for someone I can offer up to Edward in conciliation.

"Come dance with me _chéri_. I've missed you so," I say, smiling brightly at Jasper's handsome, but torn face.

_Don't pout_ _mon_ _chér. I'll make you forget this little crush_.

Without another glance at pale boy, we dive into the sea of dancers. I'm about to reach Phil, a nice but rather ordinary man, with a request to fill Edward's drink while Jasper and I are otherwise occupied, but when I glance back I see Seth already approaching Edward.

My conditioning again cannot restrain my expression, and there's another flinch.

Seth and I had a one-night stand last Christmas while Jasper had been visiting his family in the city. I should have rejected his advances. Seth's carried deeper feelings for me for years, and I actually like him…too much. Too much to have sex with, but I'd been weak that night with consumption and couldn't resist the temptation of finally tasting him.

He'd been a _faux pas_…a mistake. He was in the 'circle', therefore off limits, but he never told Jasper and I'm thankful for that.

He hadn't been a disappointment in bed, but our friendship has been strained since then.

I don't like the fact that he, too, is interested in Edward. If I had a choice I'd pick a generic…like Phil, but Seth will serve well for the purpose, I suppose. The pale boy doesn't look like he'll be in the mood for anything other than conversation anyhow.

Jasper attempts to pull me further into the mass, but I stop just past the fringes knowing that Edward, and maybe Seth too, need to learn a valuable lesson.

"That boy is so far out of his element. Why bring him here?" I ask Jasper, pulling him close.

"He asked," he answers, shortly.

"I'm sure he's regretting that right about now. What do you think?"

"I think you sure are chatty all of a sudden." Jasper presses me hard against him, his heartfelt groan sending vibrations against my chest, "Do you really want to talk?" He suggests, grounding his erection against my hip, instantly causing me to forget my next thought or our audience.

But it's difficult not to notice that time and time again his eyes drift away from me, toward the bar.

"Why do you keep watching him?" I fume, not hiding my displeasure.

"I'm responsible for his safety. He came here with me."

"Is that all?" I ask, snidely.

He huffs, "Do you want to talk about Edward…or do you want to fuckin' dance?"

I laugh happily, loving Jasper's roughness…always loving his roughness. "I'm here to fuckin' dance," I repeat with a mischievous smile, playing with the hem of his shirt. The action causes his jaw to tighten imperceptibly, and his eyes to roam again, but before they reach their intended destination, they immediately revert back to mine, staring hard.

Now that I've brought the issue to his attention, he's trying hard to keep his gaze on me.

_Good boy_.

He'll get his reward; he knows it.

I wink suggestively at him, and his expression transforms into a mask.

"C'mon Jasper, snap out of it," I urge gently, tugging at the hem of his shirt. It's a small victory when his arms drift up ever so slowly, determination seeping into his saddened eyes.

I don't waste any time peeling the cotton away from his toned physique. With his shirt halfway off, I stop to peck comforting kisses along his quivering chest, capturing a distended nub in between my teeth.

He's trembling with desire…_but for who?_ my conscience adds.

I'm too intuitive for my own good.

With his shirt off, I explore his face for answers, but he swings me around, crushing my back into his taut chest. I begin to wonder if he'd only turned me so he could evade my scrutiny, but when his tongue traces along the edge of my collar, I'm reminded of why I bother to go through all of this _misère_.

A growl escapes me when I think about all the lewd acts he could be performing with that skilled tongue, and I push my _derrière_ into his hardness.

"You want me…_don't you_?" he whispers. His question sounds unsure, his usual confidence spent on a boy that's quite possibly been playing him for a fool. He embraces me impossibly tighter, pressing his body into me, stabbing me with his impressive length.

"Say it," he hisses into my ear. "Say you want me goddammit," he pleads, his dick grinding sensuously against my backside.

"mmhmm," I moan, too overcome by his sincere desperation just to be wanted as a man.

I rip off my shirt, knowing he needs more than just simple words. "Touch me, Jasper. Feel the way my heart pounds for you."

So he does, rubbing his heated palm over my slickened flesh, while he sucks the skin just below my ear.

I can't help but glance at the bar, happy to report that both men are watching us.

"Jesus…he's…," he whispers, his hand stalling on my chest.

Afraid that he's going to end the dance, I rotate in his arms and kiss him with everything I have. He responds immediately, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and the kiss becomes exactly how I want it - frenetic and wild…for about two seconds before he rips his mouth away.

He shakes his head, backing away from me. He looks over toward the bar and his eyes flare.

"What the _hell_ is Seth doin'?" He snarls.

I grab onto both of his arms before he is able to escape. Seth has finally made his move, and is _talking_ to Edward.

"They're just talking Jasper. Seth isn't going to attack the pa…Edward." I hitch my thumb toward them. "See…he's just buying him a drink. Stay…don't go," I implore.

I'm just astounded. I've never exerted so much effort for a tumble in my life.

Jasper is hesitant, and we stand idle, in the midst of dancing couples for what feels like ages, while he wages war with himself. Finally, he starts to move against me again, but his movements are stiff, his eyes never leaving the two at the bar.

"Come with me." I'm beginning to get pissed now. He reluctantly allows me to drag him behind me, but when I reach the entrance to the 'play area' he resists, so I turn on him.

"What's going on Jasper?" I demand.

He just stares.

His mouth opens, but no words come forth.

"Did you have sex with him? Cause if you did, it's…it's just a lay…it doesn't mean anything." I'm mortified by the desperation in my voice.

"Nothing…_nothing_ is going on," he groans, pushing his hands through his hair agonizingly.

"But you want there to be."

Pain slashes across his features. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Look at me Jasper_…I_ want you." Not above begging to keep what's mine.

"I thought I would be able to…could do…_thi_s with him here, but I can't."

"Then take him to the inn and come back to me." Before I'm even finished with my sentence he's shaking his head adamantly.

"Maybe some other time."

"_Maybe_?" I repeat, incredulously. "Are you…are you _ending_ this?"

His face glazes over with a different kind of pain, a kind I don't like at all. It triggers an ache in my chest, causing my head to whirl, and the whole room to spin.

"I'm sorry…it's not…"

I won't let him finish. "This isn't done, not like this…not because of him," I interrupt. With lightning speed, I fall to my knees and undo his jeans. Not sparing a thought to anyone that could be gawking, I pull out his flaccid cock and bury it in my mouth.

He yelps, arching against the wall, his fingers lace in my hair while he pushes his hips into my face.

His fingers clench clumps of my hair, as he thrusts into my mouth harshly.

"Fuck…," he pulls away, just far enough that his semi slides from between my hollowed cheeks. "I-I can't…" His eyes wander to a man he can't possibly see from where we are.

I try again, grasping his cock, but he pushes me hard this time. "Stop."

I stand up, and he grabs his shirt that I'd stuffed in my pocket while we were dancing, puts it on, and tucks his cock back in his jeans.

He sighs heavily, clenching his eyes shut. When they open they're deep blue pools of sorrow and guilt. "Jake…" His eyes flicker across the room again, but then he does a double take as his whole head whips around, "_What the_ FUCK!" he pulls away intending to leave.

He takes several steps before I can detain him. "What about us? What about our…"

But his attention is long gone.

He bolts, leaving me trailing behind him like a lap dog. I barely see Seth and Edward sharing a kiss before Jasper wrenches them apart.

He makes a huge scene out of it, and several people stop what they're doing to take it all in. One of those people is Garrett, who watches the spectacle with a grim expression.

Jasper rushes by, his eyes conveying his apologies, as he mouths, "I'll call you", tugging the besotted fool behind him. Edward's bright green eyes widen, when I'm spotting shooting daggers at him. If it was the thought that counted, he'd be writhing on the floor in a bloody pool, but fortunately for him, I'm not a violent man.

But I do believe in getting even…wholeheartedly.

I'm beyond embarrassed. I look around the bar to find a multitude of prying eyes, including Garrett's chocolate ones, dancing with barely contained mirth.

_Bastard_.

My chin lifts a notch; I stare back defiantly.

He smiles, raising his glass in a mock toast.

I'd never felt so betrayed. Jasper and I don't have a relationship, nor would I want one with him, as I don't have feelings for him in that way. I don't think I'm even capable of those tender emotions, but we had an agreement, and beside the one lapse with Seth, I've kept to my end of the bargain.

My cool demeanor begins to crumble around me, and I see red.

It's not over, until I say it's over. Nobody takes what's mine.

"Hey Jacob." A sweet voice says behind me.

_Seth_.

The wheels start turning, and ideas begin to form.

"Well hi, baby. It's been too long since we've chatted last," I say, turning around, flashing him a blinding smile.

His beautiful eyes light up, surprised and happy.

_This is going to be too easy_.

When I peek at Garrett, he's no longer there.

**AN: I thought this chapter turned out pretty well, I hope you did too. So, now we've got yet another new character – Garrett – I wonder if he'll play a part in this tale. Any guesses on what Jacob's up to? And how is poor Seth going to be involved? And what's up with the way Jacob talks? I'd love to hear your thoughts!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Leckadam's** rocks for making me write this story.

You guys astound me! Thanks so much for all the support. I've never considered myself really good at this, but I love to tell a story. Writing doesn't come easy for me, but you all motivate and inspire me to do the very best that I can.

I know this chapter is late, but when I started reviewing/tweaking the chapter that I'd written so many months ago it was just over 4,000 words. The last two weeks I'd more than doubled my original content. I could've split it in two, but I thought you all deserved an extra long chapter for your support.

As of last chapter **I'm averaging** **6,215 words per chapter**, posting **every 7.15 days** (I'm a number's gal). I'd say those stats are nothing to squawk at. Right? :)

By the way, I'm all about E/J, BUT is anyone reading Jasper/Peter? I don't usually rec fic's…for various reasons…and I'm not gonna start now, but you might want to check out the pairing, some amazing authors are giving them a try…so go read! The more slash the better…right?

**In case you were wondering:**

Jasper is 28, Edward is 26

Rosalie and Alice 30

Emmett 34

So without further adieux…here it is.

Layne Faire is the beta for this story, and she also writes slash, so check out her stuff.

Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

It's been three days. I've allowed him three fucking days to sulk, stew, protest or whatever the hell he has to do - and now that's it. It's become perfectly evident that nothing will happen in our 'relationship' if I'm not playing the overbearing aggressor.

_Fine by me_.

If my mind could shrug right now, it would.

Now that I'm convinced he wants me, I'll do whatever it takes.

I'd given him the first day, because if I'm being honest I'd appreciated a day to myself as well. There's no mistaking that if Jasper would have graced me with his presence, I'd have been all over that. Since he hadn't, it allowed me time and space to review in great detail the events from the previous evening, finding more than enough material to reflect and dwell on.

In retrospect, I can't help but be embarrassed by the height of my audacity. It seems to know no bounds where Jasper is concerned. When he intended to leave for the island, I hadn't backed down. I've never displayed such persevering tenaciousness before, but then again I've never wanted anything or anyone as badly as Jasper.

And I don't regret it for an instant. How can I after the amazing outcome?

I had my very first man-kiss. Oh, how I wish it had been Jasper but Seth's kiss was warm, gentle and sweet. It was a _nice_ kiss. But it had been my second kiss, and every kiss thereafter, that still has me reeling.

Even three days later, I continue to flush with heat and excitement, smiling profusely when I recall the way Jasper clutched me in his strong embrace, remembering the way his lips moved sensually against mine…so urgent…so demanding. The way he thoroughly possessed and controlled me, the way he flung me over the edge, but cradled me so protectively as I fell.

Just having his hand on me…Lord…nothing - so far in this world - can compare to that heaven. Knowing full well that there is still so much more to experience excites, worries, and frightens me.

However, arriving at that point is going to prove a larger challenge than I'd originally anticipated.

Amongst the other menial, inconsequential details like… oh, Jasper's absence, and his everlasting determination to avoid me at all costs; there is now a much bigger matter at hand…

Jacob.

I've been nothing short of naïve up to this point, but I'd be downright idiotic to believe Jacob will be agreeable to surrendering this 'arrangement' he has with Jasper without some resistance. I'm also sure Jacob doesn't like to lose, or at least he's not used to losing. In fact, if the look of death he bestowed on me when I left the bar is any indication, I'm going to have a war on my hands.

Meeting Jacob had been an eye-opener. It'd been like getting punched in the balls – five different times…consecutively. And it's still sore. He's perfect: exotic and enticing. I have no doubt, from his moves on the dance floor, that he'd match Jasper in passion and intensity in the bedroom.

I don't know how to compete with that.

But regardless, for whatever reason, there is no denying Jasper has some type of feelings for me, and they trumped Jacob's influence…at least that night they did. It has to mean something that Jasper left his longtime lover, in the middle of God knows what, to break up what Seth and I had started.

Looking back now, I firmly believe that if I'd spoken up when Jacob first interfered, I could have prevented their short rendezvous from occurring in the first place.

Everything's so much clearer in hindsight. The look in Jasper's eyes had all but begged me to stop him from taking Jacob to the back, but I'd been clueless. I'd thought he sought permission from me, when he'd really been looking for me to finally spit out the truth about how I felt about him, to show him in some way…and I failed him. He'd had no choice but to go along with his original plan; I don't blame him for that.

I can't, when I'd basically driven him into Jacob's arms. At least that's what he'd said…

"_But I can Edward, since you are very much the reason I'm in the state I'm in."_

God, he _does _want me. Although I don't understand why, I won't question my good fortune.

Seth said Jacob and Jasper don't have a claim on each other, but what does that mean? What exactly do they have? And how hard will it be to break?

Or bend?

Realistically, I only have Jasper for a short time, so it isn't fair for me to expect him to break it off with Jacob. The thought of Jasper touching him…kissing him after I left, being with anyone but me for that matter…

God I can't even dwell on that now, or acknowledge how much pain the mere thought leaves me in.

It's too late to back out of this now. I'm all in, and now I have to let the cards fall where they may. It scares me to think that Jasper may be _it_ for me. I'd had a friendly, gorgeous man who knew how to kiss expertly wanting me…he even said as much. Although I'm fond of Seth's many charming attributes, my feelings couldn't scratch the surface of how much I feel for Jasper.

I'm still debating if I should even broach the subject of Jacob with him. The last thing I need is for him to become more defensive then he already is, but I'm not sure I can avoid the topic. Jacob will inevitably be the handsome, sexy, precarious pink elephant following me around until I get some answers.

If Jasper and I become more intimate, which I fervently hope we do, I'm not sure I'd be able to share him with Jacob. Actually, I know I won't. I don't think Jasper would do that, but I _need_ to know he won't. I'll need to hear the promise come from his sweet lips.

So, I'd been more than grateful to have the extra time to sort through all of my thoughts.

By the second day, there still hadn't been any sign of Jasper. I'd conceded this day to him, too, due to the discomfort I still happened to be in. My shoulder blade has a small scrape on it from rubbing up against the tree I'd been leaning on that night.

Jasper had taken careful measures to support me, minimizing the friction; most often his hand had been wedged between me and the tree. When that didn't happen to be the case, he'd attempted to hold my hips still. However, toward the end…while in the midst of finding his own fulfillment, his erratic thrusts proved to be too much and the raw spot on my back is the result.

A small price to pay, but nonetheless the burn was there and I don't want Jasper to feel guilty about it, since the tender area continues to cause me grief every time something rubs against it.

That hadn't been my only pain point yesterday. I also couldn't stop scratching my nuts after I'd shaved 'down there' for the first time ever. After seeing Jasper's manscaping efforts, I didn't want him to see the state of my groin area. It's not as if it's untamed or anything, I'd trimmed…somewhat…on occasion, but had never shaved it smooth before.

To be honest, I'd never really thought much about grooming that particular area, and Bella had never mentioned that she'd like me to try anything different. However, seeing that patch of Jasper's bald flesh inspired me to try the same. Apparently, I'd done something wrong along the way.

Maybe I should've trimmed the hair before I'd taken a razor to it. Maybe I didn't use an adequate amount of soap…maybe I used the wrong kind. Maybe I should've used a new razor…I just don't know. I've mulled over the numerous possibilities, but it's really anyone's guess.

All I know is, I spent the whole day with my hand down my pants, succumbing to the merciless itch.

I even relented this afternoon, in hopes that the unbecoming red bumps that accompanied the itching might disappear…but now - razor burn be damned. I'm sick and tired of waiting for him to come around.

I'm more than hurt.

After what transpired between us, I still can't fathom why he still insists on avoiding me. Yet, again and again, he continues to evade me. I swear, I've never met anyone so obstinate – well, except for me. _Lucky him_.

I've emailed Alice almost every day since our phone call, and our relationship is definitely on the mend. I'd love to tell her what's going on…tell her that I think I'm in love. Then, I could request some sound advice. No matter how lost I am in dealing with this situation, or how desperate I am for help, I still can't justify telling her I'm gay over the phone.

The only thing I can really celebrate is that the boat has remained docked the last two nights, meaning Jasper hasn't been back to Sinner's Island without me.

If he doesn't show up for dinner tonight, I'll be heading over to his cabin bright and early tomorrow. I've avoided doing so in the past, considering it unfair to accost him in his personal sanctuary, when I know I wouldn't welcome unwanted visitors and advances in my own apartment.

But I'm desperate. Time is of the essence.

How can I make him understand this?

XXXXX

I stand outside my room, ensuring that it's locked; honoring Rosalie's request to do so when other guests are at the inn. I head downstairs for supper, but before I even reach the steps, I stop, getting an odd feeling…like I'm forgetting something. I can't think of what it could be, so I walk down a couple of steps and the feeling intensifies. Wavering in the stairwell, I try to recall what I can possibly be missing.

I'd plugged my laptop and phone in…

I'd turned off the lights in the bathroom and the bedroom…

I'd shut the window, even making sure it locked.

I tap the back of my jean pocket…_wallet's there_.

I quickly glance down - all pieces of clothing are accounted for, and are on in the correct order.

But I still can't shake this feeling. Confused, my eyes wander while my mind works. They stray down the hall when I hear a strange noise coming from Irina and Jane's room, which is weird because all of the rooms are supposedly soundproof.

I can't stop myself from moving closer, wondering what could be so loud that it's penetrating the heavy door and thick walls. Standing directly in front of their door, I listen. It sounds like a wind…a howling wind…?

Maybe a hairdryer? The TV?

Then it suddenly stops – a bang - and then a copious amount of giggling.

The bang startles me, so with a sharp gasp, I back away abruptly, stumbling over my own feet, and crashing into the door across from their room. Feeling like a total moron for tripping over my own feet, I naturally look around to see if anyone's witnessed my clumsiness, but the hallway is very well lit and perfectly solitary.

I don't linger.

I scurry down the stairs taking two, sometimes three, steps at a time. When I reach the lower level, I hesitate for a moment, catching my breath before I enter the dining room.

_What the fuck is with those two_? Holy moly.

I have to remember to ask Rosalie how much longer they're staying.

Irina and Jane are definitely _different_. It's like you're in a _Twilight Zone_ episode around them.

Rosalie advised me that you have to get to know them to appreciate their uniqueness. Apparently, they're veterans to the inn. The twins were one of Rosalie's first visitors, and they continue to spend time here every year.

She thinks both of them are attracted to Jasper. _Join the club_.

From what she states, the two of them get all starry-eyed when he's around, but as far as she knows neither of them has ever made a move on him. She'd snorted and said she'd like to see them try. She seemed to realize the slip, becoming pretty close-lipped after that.

That's the closest she's come to telling me that Jasper is gay.

Finding a seat next to Emmett still open, I expel a huge sigh of relief. At least I won't be sandwiched between the two of them, like last evening.

Emmett chuckles knowing exactly where my thoughts are. I barely make it into my chair before the girls float into the room behind me.

"Yah, Edward's here!" Irina says happily, clapping her hands.

Jane pins me with her eyes…_as usual_.

Yellow eyes.

_Jesus_. It still arrests me every time I see them. I'd thought it'd been a figment perpetrated by the flames of the bonfire that night, but it'd been no illusion. The color couldn't be described as anything but a pale, yet vivid, _yellow_.

Irina is the exuberant one. She's amiable, content on spreading good cheer. It's Jane that unnerves me the most. When she peers at me with those eyes, alarm surges through me. She's quiet, always dissecting me, and when those piercing eyes are fixed on me they won't be deterred. She stares beyond my obvious discomfort and anxiousness. It's like she's prying open my soul, for the sole purpose of scavenging through my secrets and flaws.

I've often wondered, these last few days if the girls had seen Jasper and I in the backyard. They've taken such an avid interest in me since then. But it's impossible. They'd have no reason to be wandering in the backyard that late at night, and their room faces the front of the house, so they couldn't have possibly seen or heard us.

It just doesn't make sense. It has to be something else.

"Oh my God Edward, you should have come with us to the Thompson's dairy farm today. We learned how to milk cows. Mr. Beasley says I'm a natural with the teats." Irina winks.

My eyes flare. I glimpse at Rosalie, who's rolling her eyes behind the girls, and then at Emmett, who's trying really hard not to laugh out loud.

I'm positive neither of these girls are into me. When I'd expressed concern over their intentions yesterday, Emmett had told me that he'd overheard them say that I was 'a cutie', but way too thin for their liking. I didn't take their comments personally.

I'd lost fifteen pounds, on my already slim frame, since Bella had asked for the divorce, and I was well aware of how my clothes hang where they hadn't before.

Flirting is just in Irina's nature.

"Oh, well…that's nice." Clearing my throat awkwardly, I make an effort to change the subject. "Rosalie, this smells fantastic." Everyone's attention redirects to the center of the table.

There lies a monumental pot roast, smothered in a dark gravy, that I can guarantee tastes as phenomenal as it smells, along with freshly baked drop biscuits that are still steaming in the basket.

I lick my lips in anticipation.

I'm becoming like Emmett; excited the minute I hear the clank of the silver being set on the table, near ravenous by the time the aromas permeate from the kitchen, and getting tunnel vision when the food is finally placed on the table.

Rosalie is making sure I gain those fifteen pounds back – and then some.

For the next half hour, I hear conversation going on around me, and I smile and grunt when required, but mainly focus on the delectable meal.

It isn't until I'm in the middle of my second helping that my attention is finally diverted.

"We saw Jasper in town today," Jane tells the table.

And that's all it takes for the meal to become a distant memory.

"He was picking up some supplies at the hardware store. He's such a handsome boy," Irina adds.

_Boy_? Irina has to be _at least_ five years younger than Jasper.

"Mmhm," Jane agrees, peeking at me before her eyes fall back to her half eaten meal.

"Oh yeah…he stopped by the shop today. Said Buckley needed a repair on the door of his store," Emmett pipes in. "You should go by and check on him Rosie. He didn't look so good. I told him as much, but he said he's fine…just needed to sleep it off."

_Has Jasper been ill?_

I'd most assuredly lost my appetite after that.

"That boy doesn't get sick. The last time I remember my brother sick he'd puked all over the nurse at school in fifth grade." She appears thoughtful for a moment. "I'll have to run over there later with some of the soup leftover from lunch. I'll check him out for myself."

"I'd be happy to go by there after dinner to drop it off, and see if he's doing okay," I blurt. My face flames when I get the feeling everyone at the table absolutely knows I have an ulterior motive for seeking Jasper out.

I'm fervently hoping yesterday's outing to pick strawberries, with the absence of sunscreen, conceals the telling blush.

Jane angles her head, her yellow eyes probing me intently. "I hear that chicken soup can cure even the most conflicted soul," she muses.

"It's an excellent idea, Edward," Irina agrees.

Rosalie's brow is crunched in confusion, and Emmett can't even contain the smile anymore, a big goofy grin spreading across his face…but me…

I study them…

Without reservation.

Again, _what do they know? And how_?

It seems as though my telepathy skills aren't as advanced as Jane's, because I get nothing from either of them. I can only hope that if they do know something they'll keep it to themselves.

I'm not ready to explain to Rosalie the nature of my relationship with her brother. If this becomes any more transparent, I may have to make a special trip home for a weekend to speak with Alice…or better yet, she can fly here and meet Jasper herself.

But before I can plan that _I'll_ have to figure out exactly what the nature of my relationship with Jasper is.

XXXXX

Standing at Jasper's front door is intimidating. I shift uncomfortably, second guessing the validity of my excuse for being here…for invading his home and privacy. I'm nervous as hell that he'll be furious when he sees me lurking on the other side of his door.

Instead of knocking, my eyes scope the vicinity.

His cabin is an extension of the inn's backyard. The stone pathway leading to his place could barely be seen, littered with leaves and twigs. Large weeping willows and giant oak trees shroud the property, surrounding the secluded bungalow, shading it in that familiar darkness. The only vibrant hues are that of the purple and yellow colors of the faded LSU tiger flag that flaps angrily from the front porch.

The unkempt appearance of the yard only serves to magnify the beauty that is his home. The cottage is in magnificent shape, simple and homey, but with a mysterious appeal. It looks like a one-story, with the probability of a loft, judging by the highest of the three front windows.

His truck is parked next to a small, dilapidated shed and even further down, inconspicuous from the inn, is a larger barn where I'm guessing Jasper does all his work. The barn doors are closed with a heavy lock to protect the valuable commodities located inside.

My eyes fall back on the daunting front door, and I raise my hand to knock, but I can't seem to do it.

_What if he's not alone?_

Just because I've never seen him bring anyone here, doesn't mean he doesn't. Seth says Jasper is only with Jacob _on the island_, but what if their deal didn't extend to the mainland? Maybe Jasper has arrangements with other men in town.

I'm carrying soup, biscuits and pie…care of Rosalie, and I promised her I'd deliver them to him. I can't chicken out now.

_So knock already._

I swallow past my uncertainties and trepidation and do as my inner voice bids me. I rap on the front door three times in quick succession, and, after several long, tumultuous seconds, I hear the sound of footsteps approaching from the opposite side of the door.

Knowing that I'm just moments away from seeing Jasper, my mind fills with images from our last meeting and my dick reacts instantly, setting off another wave of itchiness.

_Dammit. This is _not_ happening right now_.

I'm trying to juggle everything in my hands while attempting to relieve the annoying itch with my elbow.

The door swings open as I'm bent down in a pretty awkward position.

"Edward?" He seems surprised, but not unpleasantly so.

I try really hard not to look past him into his home, but my curiosity is almost painful in its intensity to see how the man lives. I gawk at him instead, not taking any precautions to mask my craving for him.

He looks tired, unshaven, rumpled, and sexy as hell.

He's wearing a simple white t-shirt with light gray lounge pants, looking utterly delicious.

"Hey…Jasper," I greet cautiously, trying to gage his disposition. "Emmett told Rosalie that you might not be feeling well, and she just wanted to bring you some soup…and-and stuff," I finish lamely, pushing an arm full of Tupperware at him.

He purses his lips before he complains, "That big oaf. I told him I was fine."

He studies the contents. "So why are you here, instead of Rose?" he asks quietly, keeping his eyes on the treats.

"Well, I offered because I hadn't seen you since…and…," I trail off, when his bright blue eyes dart to mine, hot and achy. Under his intense gaze, the words I'd practiced earlier fail me.

"Jasper, can I please talk to you?"

"Edward…" He's already shaking his head, and it's apparent that I don't need to know what I'm doing to know exactly where this is going.

"_Please_. Just five minutes," I plead.

He shocks me when he scrambles aside and motions for me to come in.

His cabin is stunning. True to cabin form the logs are visible from the inside. Hardwood floors and a large fireplace add to the relaxed ambience. His furniture is impeccable of course, since he most likely built it all himself, and it's clean. A complete wall is dedicated to hundreds of books, and I rein in the impulse to run over to read all of the titles, excited that he shares one of my favorite pastimes.

My eyes shift to the loft upstairs, where a simple wood railing hides where I'm assuming his bed is located.

A blast of longing shoots through me, causing me to rub my open palm against my chest in an effort to relieve the twinge.

"You have a beautiful home," I announce, taking one last look up the stairs, making it my goal to see it one day…_sleep_ in it one day. I glance back at Jasper, to find him staring at me.

"Thank you." He smiles, but it's not a real one.

His expression reflects his own self-induced yearning, and I can't comprehend why he continues to deny us both.

We stare at each other for a long moment. He's probably waiting for me to tell him why I invited myself into his home, and a stitch of guilt invades my already tattered emotions.

I swallow that particular feeling down, determined not to allow one more thing to discourage me from my course.

The house is filled with cream and navy accents, and I recognize the talent immediately. It gives me a reason to prolong my stay, and additional time to gather the necessary courage to say what I'd come for.

"Rosalie must have decorated?" I deduce.

I hear a heavy sigh, but I don't look his way, not wanting to openly acknowledge his frustration.

"Yeah…I think she thought if I'd done it my way, it'd be full of purple and gold." I turn back just in time to catch him checking out my backside.

"Gold? LSU colors are purple and yellow…not gold."

"It is _so gold_," he argues, adorably, his blue eyes sparking with serious offense. I should have known better than to tease him about something he loves so much.

His defiant tone makes me smile, and eventually, it causes him to smile in return. I think I even hear him chuckle.

We gaze fixedly at each other from across the room, until the heat of my gaze proves too much for him, and he looks down at his socked feet.

"Jasper…," I whisper. His head flicks up – those eyes flashing - begging…for something.

"Edward, I can't…," he interrupts, but I won't make it that easy for him.

"I thought that we had a mutually good time the other night. Am I wrong?" Challenging him to lie.

"No, it was…it _was_…" His eyes glaze over, and he shakes his head, clearing it of his previous thought before he begins again. "I never intended to let it get that far."

I step closer, unwilling to accept that. "You felt something…didn't you? Tell me you don't care about me at all - I'll go and I won't come back." I strive for strength, but my voice breaks, knowing it will destroy me if he says he doesn't.

"It's not that simple Edward. I did…I _do_…it's…I'm…_fuck_, I'm not any good with words…"

I wait helplessly for him to continue.

Seconds tick away, as I fight back tears.

When he finally speaks it seems so loud that it startles me, but in actuality his voice is barely above a whisper. "What I'm meanin' to say is that I'm…It's just…I'm not lookin' for a relationship." He huffs, dragging his hands through his hair in exasperation.

I'll take whatever I can get, so if pretending indifference is the key, then I'll do it. Jasper is clearly not ready to hear how much I care, to know all that I feel for him.

"Well, that's good Jasper, because I'm only here for six more weeks."

His cringe probably means that wasn't what he'd wanted to hear.

"I don't think it would be a really good idea," he says, confirming my theory.

_Does he want me to crawl_?

I remember my earlier question. "You never answered my question. Do – you – like - me?"

"Yes," he hisses – steadfastly - no hesitation.

I take another step closer.

"I like you too. It doesn't have to be like this. Jasper, I just want to get to know you, hang out, and have a good time...umm…like we did the other day. Why can't we just enjoy my remaining time here together without putting a label on it?"

I'm breaking down his walls. I can see the difference in his posture.

His stance is still defensive, and his jaw still set, but there's a softening in his eyes that's unmistakable.

"Just give this a chance. If this gets too serious or heavy for either one of us, we'll break it off." It's an atrocious lie, but I want this so badly I'm able to give it without even the slightest flinch. "I don't want to give this up quite yet."

While I plead my case, I've edged toward him so now I stand close enough to touch him, and not doing so is torture.

I've waited three long days for this.

I brush my hand across his cheekbone, and he flinches, but doesn't pull away. I may be making a grave miscalculation but I take it as a good sign. I lean in…just a whisper away from kissing him, but I've exhausted my reserve of bravado for the evening.

Well most of it…

"Go with me to the movies tomorrow."

Jasper seems a little disappointed, and I wonder if it's because I basically just asked him out on a date, or because I didn't kiss him like he probably thought I was going to.

"What're they playin'?"

_Yes_!

"Does it matter?" I counter, with a playful wink.

Slowly, his face forms the most breathtaking smile, and his blue eyes dance.

"No, I guess it doesn't."

Satisfied with what I've accomplished, I back toward the door. He watches with ill-concealed disappointment while I retreat, and I'm scarcely able to stem the urge to jump into his arms, to beg him to take me up those stairs.

But it wouldn't be wise to try that.

Because he probably would, and then he'd hop on the next boat with Jacob and I'd never see him again.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, I'll meet you up at the inn."

"It's a date then."

"Edward," he growls. "We cannot be datin'." But there's a smile on his face, and he looks genuinely happy.

I bask in it for a moment before I turn to reach for the door.

"Whatever you say," I singsong.

My huge smile deflates while I trudge through the woods, back to the inn.

I'm afraid. There's no disputing it.

If I'm not already head over heels in love with the man, it'll just be a matter of time before I am. I may be sorry I didn't walk away from Jasper when he turned me down the first time. It's going to hurt like hell when I have to leave him.

I stop at "our" tree and run my fingertips over the bark. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the most vivid recollections assault me. It's a birds-eye view of Jasper and I – here – two nights ago.

The vision is amazing; it's a view I'd never summoned before…the precision, the arrangement…the cognizance…the explicitness. As many times as I'd replayed the scene in my head, I'd never encountered such a transcendent visualization.

And it's not just images.

I can actually _feel_ his hands all over me again, _taste_ his skin on the tip of my tongue. I _hear_ his sultry moans, vibrating seduction against my ear. I _feel_ the pleasurable pain that had bloomed deep within my core when I tumbled from ecstasy in his arms.

I'm achingly hard, the shudders from a previous orgasm rip through my body in perfect clarity.

My hand slips from the tree and the images and sensations fade away.

_Holy shit_. I stand trembling, attempting to gather my bearings.

My imagination has no limits lately.

On my way up the stairs to the inn, I look back at the tree one last time.

None of the doubts or reservations matter; I won't give up this opportunity with Jasper for anything.

XXXXX

Stay Still_ by Edward M. Cullen _(cont'd)

"_Our first real clue boss." James' relief is profound, handing Jeremy the sealed envelope delivered from the lab just moments ago._

_Jeremy hadn't released this latest development to the press, in hopes of catching the killer off guard._

_The two of them had combed the latest crime scene for hours when James had finally stumbled upon their very first piece of real evidence._

_The victim had been a troubled local girl, who'd attended the local high school. She was one of Tony's students. Her parents had divorced last year, and so her grades had taken a nosedive, when she'd began taking drugs and hanging out with the wrong crowd._

_Her school bus pass had been found in a nearby dumpster, scheduled to be emptied the next morning._

_Jeremy is sure that the killer hadn't meant for it to be found._

_Jeremy analyzed the evidence himself, finding a couple of different prints that he hoped would be clear enough to identify the killer. He'd sent the valuable clue out to Indianapolis to be examined further._

_Jeremy prayed fervently that something positive would come from this. The town is devastated and they're demanding answers._

_Although he hadn't expressed them openly, even James is beginning to have his doubts about Jeremy's capabilities._

_While Jeremy tore into the envelope, he and James share a look of utter desperation._

XXXXX

For not being a date, Jasper sure did put some effort into his appearance tonight. I'm struggling not to eye-fuck him while his sister and her husband are in the same room, but I'm finding it extremely difficult.

Thankfully, I'd jerked off not too long ago, so my dick is behaving…for now. I'd visualized Jasper and I sprawled out in front of his fireplace, lying on a mass of pillows…naked and busy. It hadn't taken but a few minutes for me to unload after imagining Jasper lying on his back, the soft glow of the firelight dancing along his ravishingly, nude figure while I licked every inch of him.

But he looks so good right now.

His hair styled in perfect waves, barely brushing against his freshly shaven jaw. He's wearing a black polo type, golf shirt, with thin red horizontal stripes. I've never seen Jasper in anything but jeans, but tonight…for me, he's wearing black khaki pants.

He's so incredibly, smoking hot.

When I'd chosen my darkest blue jeans, and a navy blue t-shirt for the evening I purposefully went more casual, scared that he'd read too much into it if I dressed up.

I actually prefer him wearing his normal attire, especially his butt-hugging denim, but the fact that he went to these lengths when we'd just intended on sitting in his truck makes me feel special.

_This is so a date. _How can he say it's not?

"You're here too early to be headin' off to the show. Were you plannin' on joinin' us for supper?" Rosalie is speaking to Jasper, but her eyes flicker between us, a weird expression on her face.

That's when it occurs to me I should probably wipe the huge grin off my face.

The last thing I want is for Rosalie to believe that this is actually a date – _which it is_. But she doesn't need to know that.

Jasper clears his throat and it seems like he's about to run his fingers through his hair, but changes his mind.

His hand drops back to his side, punctuated by a light slap against his thigh.

"Well, Edward hasn't been out for supper much, so I thought maybe we'd go by Jimmy's place for pizza and beer. If he's willin' to give up your cookin' for a night, that is." He adds softly, glancing at me.

I'm mesmerized by the soft pink tingeing his cheekbones, dazzled by the shine in his blue eyes.

Our eyes lock, neither of us able to look away.

I slog through the stupor, reaching for some cognizance, after I realize they're waiting for a response from me.

"Yeah, that sounds good...um I'm going to grab my wallet - I'll be right back." I attempt casualness, but contradict myself by racing up the stairs to my room.

I already have my wallet, but I need a minute to get my shit straight. If I continue to swoon every time I'm in Jasper's presence, I'll out myself to everyone before I'm ready.

I shut the door, leaning back against it. I squeeze my eyes shut and pray I can keep it together until we're alone.

The gigantic smile I'd just managed to suppress reappears when I take all this in. I think about how far I've come since I've been here…how my life has changed in so many ways.

My first date with a man.

My first date with _Jasper_.

_Oh my God, what am I doing in here when he's downstairs looking so edible…for me_?

I wait not a second longer for the date to begin. I rush to the closet, grab a dark gray pull over, whipping it over my head while I fly out the door.

Jasper stands at the base of the stairs with his hands in his pockets. His attention is focused on Rosalie, with Emmett sitting not too far off. She's whispering, while they all bear somber expressions.

One of the stairs creak and they all glance up, pasting fake smiles on their faces.

"You ready?" He asks.

I just nod, worried that Rosalie has caused Jasper to second guess agreeing to go out with me. He already carries enough doubt about us without having others pile on more.

I can only contend with so much.

My cause for concern dies quickly when we step outside and I see his shiny, newly cleaned truck gleaming from the late afternoon sun. I hadn't seen the truck washed once since I'd been here.

_Not a date_? Who is he kidding?

I look back at Jasper with a mischievous smirk. He blushes, "What?"

I just shrug, my smirk growing.

His blush deepens to an adorable crimson.

_How am I going to keep my hands off him_?

While we drive into town, Jasper seems deep in thought. I don't want him dwelling on anything Rosalie might have said, or any other uncertainties he may be contemplating. I drag my hand across the cab and cover the one he has resting on his thigh. He jumps slightly from the contact, and I wonder if he even remembers that I'm in the truck with him.

"A penny for your thoughts," I murmur.

He watches my thumb skim over his knuckles, exhaling one long, shaky breath. "I was just thinkin' that I haven't been to the drive-in in ages."

"I'm so happy you said you'd come with me."

He flips his hand over and interlaces our fingers, gripping firmly.

"Me too," he confesses, huskily.

XXXXX

The restaurant is crammed with the dinner rush in full mode.

The pizza is tasty, but not the same caliber of the Chicago-style pies I'm used to back home, however, the quality of the company more than makes up for any deficiency in the food.

Whatever had been bothering Jasper earlier is a non-existent issue now. He's brimming with charm and lightheartedness. Conversation flows seamlessly while we veer from topic to topic. It amazes me, repeatedly, the more I learn about him, how much we have in common, and how right this feels to be here with him.

And I love his little quirks.

I adore the way he ducks his head, with a sideways smile when he becomes shy after I give him a compliment. The way he absentmindedly swirls the straw in his drink as he talks.

I love the way his eyes flare in annoyance when we argue over the Big Ten versus SEC divisions, and when his eyes dance with joy when he teases me or is telling a joke.

Even though it's caused me grief, I also admire his stubbornness, and determination.

And I especially love that he asks me as many questions as I ask him, and always focuses on me completely when I answer. He's interested in what I have to say; he wants to get to know me better too.

He's truly a beautiful person inside and out.

This evening just solidifies my previous fear that I've already fallen in love with the man.

I wish I could ask if Jacob's aware that we're here together, but I don't want to ruin our first date by bringing up that particular topic just yet. I know he'll have to be dealt with sooner rather than later…just not tonight.

But I had to ask…

"So does Rosalie know that you…" I leave it open, because the tables sit close together and I don't want our neighbors to hear anything Jasper doesn't want them to.

His face registers surprise. "Yeah, of course she does. I don't hide myself from anyone, Edward…especially my sister." His tone is terse. He's offended and I'm clueless, but then I recall Alec's failure to come out, and how hurt Jasper had been by that.

How stupid of me to forget such an important detail.

"Does she think me and you are…you know…"

"On a date?" He grins, wickedly.

Unconsciously, my eyes quickly scan the others around us to see if they'd heard Jasper's question. Convinced that they seem to be involved in their own discussions my eyes fall back on Jasper, who's in the midst of answering his own question.

"No, she doesn't," he answers. "Because for one, this isn't a date, and two, she thinks you're as straight as an arrow. It's not my place to tell her any different." He becomes serious then, watching me so keenly that I find myself fiddling nervously with the napkin in my lap.

"We should get going, the movie's going to start soon," I say, and for the first time tonight I'm not able to maintain eye contact. It's an obvious deflection…and from Jasper's expression…he doesn't miss it.

He chuckles wryly, an odd look on his face, one that I don't feel completely comfortable with. He removes the napkin from his lap, before tossing it on the table.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to miss the beginning of 'Pretty Woman'. I've been told that if you miss the first five minutes you'll be lost the rest of the film," he states, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Once we shimmy out of the booth, I punch him lightly in the arm. "Whatever, smart ass."

He snickers, and the joviality is restored.

XXXXX

The drive-in is one of Bon Terre's favorite sources of entertainment for its residents. Young and old alike gather outside their vehicles, in various clusters around the grassy parking lot, to mix and mingle before the film begins.

It's a perfect night to be here. The sky is clear; the weather is warm.

Jasper and I meander to the concession stand to buy a couple Pepsi's and the customary tub of popcorn. As we walk back, several people engage Jasper in small talk. I stand quietly from a safe distance, observing him while he communicates with the townsfolk.

I've learned from Rosalie and Emmett that Jasper's well-respected in the community, but to actually see it…I feel such pride, standing by his side…able to say that I know him…_that I'm here with him_.

If everyone knows about his orientation, they certainly don't hold it against him. Their blasé attitude causes me to wonder how my employer would accept the news of my sexual preference should they happen to find out. Somehow, I don't think I'd receive the same reception from Principal Meyer and the few teachers that I'm acquainted with that I've witnessed here.

Walking back to the truck, my fingers itch to latch onto his. I've had several urges tonight to hold his hand, lean across the table and kiss him, or just…God…touch him in some way. I need to make sure he's real, that I'm not imagining his beauty. I've never been an affectionate guy, and I normally don't participate in public displays, but I want to _claim_ Jasper; I want everyone to know he's mine.

But he's not mine, nor will he ever be.

Jasper hasn't attempted to touch me either, and for that I'm grateful. I'm almost sure he's waiting for me to make a move. Now that it's dark outside and we're alone in the truck, there's nothing to hold me back.

My heart is beating out of my chest, but I wait until were settled in. The movie has started, and I'm stealing glances at Jasper. His eyes are fixed on the movie, but his jaw is taut and his hands are folded together in his lap…tightly, by the looks of his white knuckles that can be seen clearly from across the cab.

Richard Gere saunters on the screen, wearing his designer business suit…looking all hot…

Wait…_what_?

_Jesus Christ_. I've come unleashed.

The movie's about fifteen minutes in when I decide that I can no longer take any more.

I need him.

I edge closer, and the seat squeaks, killing my attempt at stealth, which is proven more so when I see Jasper's smirk. After that failed endeavor, I drop the finesse act, scooting over noisily until I'm sitting in the center of the cab.

When I glimpse at Jasper, his smirk has disappeared, and he doesn't take his eyes off the screen, even though he couldn't care less about the movie.

I lay my hand over his, prying his fingers apart slowly. When I finally free the death grip, I pull one of his hands over into my lap. I study it, watching while I trace my fingers over every knuckle and vein.

It's been too long. Four whole days since I've last tasted him.

I flip his hand over, and bring it to my mouth, brushing my lips over his open palm. My tongue peeks out, flicking the pulse point on his wrist.

I'm not sure how Jasper's reacting to my simple touch, so I peek up to catch his heated gaze on me.

"God…Edward…tell me what you want from me. _Please_," he begs, his voice hoarse with need.

And I want him…more than anything I've ever wanted in my entire life…more than anything I'll ever want in my entire life.

I lean in for a kiss, and he more than meets me halfway. Our lips clash, and our tongues quickly become urgent. The kiss is lusty and erotic, and it makes my body roil in desire and anticipation, but I pull away, because I need to say the words.

"I want you Jasper…so much. I've wanted - "

Hungrily, his lips attack mine. It's masterfully chaotic – his skilled lips devour - pushing, pulling, opening and closing, scorching hot and wet. The man knows how to lay one on you.

He tugs on a lever that sets the seat back even further. Pushing me until I have no alternative but to retreat back to my side of the cab, he takes my place in the middle. I scarcely give him the opportunity to stretch out his legs before I straddle him.

His face automatically tilts up for another kiss, and my hands weave in his hair, drawing his locks away from his gorgeous face. His blues eyes are sharp and intense, his luscious lips already pouting from our ardent kisses. Gripping my waist, he pulls me roughly against him, causing my boner to press up against his stomach.

He cups my buttocks, squeezing to the point of delicious pain. His fingertips trace the seam down the middle of my jeans, the vertical stitch in-between my back pockets. I lose it, imagining what it'd feel like had I been naked, and his fingers were trailing along the crack in my ass.

My body has a mind of its own, moving in ways I didn't even know I was capable of. I undulate against his cock, a sinuous dance that produces the friction I desire. I give and take, pounding into his cock, desperately seeking our mutual fulfillment.

"Fuck," he grates out. "Slow down."

I'm confused, not knowing what I've done wrong. "Don't you want me?"

"What?" He hisses. He grabs my hand and places it between us, directly on his hard cock. "Fuckin' hell, does it feel like I want you?"

He lets go of my hand, but I keep it there, squeezing and massaging his prominent bulge. He moans, lifting his hips up into my palm.

"This is all I think about," he wheezes.

Feeling bold from his response to my touch, I lean forward, a hairsbreadth away from his sexy mouth while jerking his cock the best I can through his pants. "Tell me…what is it that you think about?"

He moans, arching up into my eager palm. "I imagine kissin' you, lickin' you…_everywhere_…touchin' you…"

I tsk. "You can do better than that," I chastise, playfully. "What gets you off? What makes you cum?"

His groan is heartfelt and needy. His hips begin moving, humping my hand in small, liquid thrusts.

"I get off picturin' me suckin' your cock, while you ride my fingers. And if its one of those nights that I'm missin' ya like mad, I imagine you bouncin' on my dick, while watchin' you jack yourself off."

"Jesus. Yes," I whimper.

I'm going to explode.

"That's all it takes darlin'. Y'know why? 'Cause you're so fucking hot with one hand strokin' your dick, and the other tangled in that fuckin' hair that feels like goddamn silk. Your sweet mouth is open, and your breathin'…it's real heavy, but you're so fuckin' blissed out that you can't form a goddamn thought. I'm makin' you feel _that_ good, and it's drivin' us both crazy, 'cause your squeezing my dick with your beautiful ass, and makin' those sweet sounds like you did underneath that tree and the stars that night, _dammit_…"

"I want that Jas. I want it so bad. Please." This isn't the right time or place, but it doesn't stop me from begging him for it.

My mouth clasps onto his neck, while he does the same. I locate a spot low enough that it won't be easily seen and suck hard, hoping I've managed to leave him with a little souvenir.

Frustrated by the lack of contact, I grind against him needing to feel more pressure on my dick, but it's just not enough anymore. I lean back, grappling with his belt buckle. At the same time, his hands have found the edge of my shirt, and he dips underneath, immediately rendering me useless, while he roams the expanse of my chest…scratching and pinching.

My head lolls back momentarily, as I yield to the exhilaration of having his hands on my naked skin again. His fingers trace my stomach, then descend to the button of my jeans, joining me in the battle to free our straining erections.

I'm done before him, and I get the first look and feel of a penis in my hand, other than that of my own. As expected, Jasper's dick is magnificent. It's dark in the cab, but not so much that I can't see his perfection.

Eager to learn what Jasper likes, I raise my hand to my mouth and spit. Jasper stops me, reaching behind me into the glove box to extract a small bottle of lube. I try really hard not to think about how many other guys he's done this with or wonder how often he uses this little bottle of lube he keeps tucked away in his truck so conveniently. Unfortunately, being the novice I am, I'm no good with jealousy, and it eats away a little of my momentum.

He pours the slick substance onto his fingers, then glances up. I smile quickly, not wanting to reveal exactly how much my sour thought is affecting me.

"I just put it in there this mornin', darlin'," he explains, seeing straight through my guise.

Pecking my lips, he gives me a meaningful look, then goes back to task.

_How does he know me so well already_?

He lays the vial next to us, rubs his hands together, and takes each of our cocks in a different hand, greasing them up.

We moan simultaneously.

Eyes closed, his head falls back on the seat. "Jesus…Edward…" His eyes open, and he stares – a sharp glint of blue, indicating irritation. "I told you that this is all I've been thinking about. I meant it. You're all I've been wantin', since the day you walked into the dining room."

_Don't forget about Jacob._

_Not. Now._

"Kiss me, darlin'," he demands.

And I do - for all I'm worth.

I must be doing a damn good job too, because a couple of times he forgets that he's jacking us off, getting too involved in the kissing. I remind him by bucking up into his idle fist, which effectively kick-starts him to remobilize.

Once we've been lubed sufficiently, I knock the hand away from his shaft, replacing it with my own. The feel of his smooth cock throbbing in my hand is sensational, and in no time I match his pace. It doesn't take long for our breathing to become choppy as we near our climaxes.

"Take off your shirt," he says through clenched teeth.

I whine, not wanting to release his dick, when I know he has to be close.

"I'm gonna cum, darlin', and I need to see it all over you."

_Well why didn't he just say so_?

I struggle to remove my pullover with the low ceiling, so Jasper helps. Once it's been hurled to the floor, I don't take my t-shirt off, but merely pull the hem over my head, like I'd seen some of the men at Sinner's Island do while they dance. I thought it looked sexy, and I tend to believe Jasper agrees, since a growl rises deep from his chest.

My nipples harden under Jasper's gaze, and I lean up on my knees to accommodate his unspoken request. He immediately sucks one of my nubs into his mouth, causing me to cry out from the newest sensation. Ten fingers find purchase in his hair, while he lavishes each of my nipples with love and attention.

I yank on his shirt with a low mewl, not able to put two words together to express my need.

But we're on the same page. His shirt is literally ripped in his haste to remove it, flinging it carelessly to the side. I try to grasp Jasper's dick, but he blocks me, spreading his hand across my chest, to push me back.

"No…stay like that," he commands, circling a hand around my aching cock.

"What happened to your hair, Edward? I happened to like those curls."

My belly does a cartwheel. "Ah, _God_…" I moan.

I rest my hands on the balls of my feet, stretching my torso out in front him. His eyes rake over me, his hand stroking in fluid, mesmerizing thrusts. It's not long before I'm fucking his hand, pushing my hips up into his fist. My balls are buzzing; it's just a matter of moments before I have to let go.

"You haven't answered my question. Are you gonna grow it back for me?" He asks, tightly.

_How can he even form words right now_?

"_Y-yyes_!" I cry out.

Jasper knows I'm close too. I can feel his hand brush against my leg, pumping his own cock, furiously, and I hear the recognizable sounds of well-lubed masturbation. Except I don't want to hear it, I want to _see_ it …commit it to memory, so that when I'm home in my bed in Chicago…I won't feel so alone, but against my will, my head falls back on my shoulders, and my eyes drift shut.

With heightened determination, I open my eyes wide, and focus on…_Oh my God_…

Us…together.

So carnal…so _incredible_.

Our dicks are close…almost touching, both leaking from the tip, two shades of rosy red.

Jasper's stomach bobs - mine rolls.

His chest is slick and taut – mine heaves.

His moist lips are parted… I see the very bottom of his two top teeth, and the tip of a spongy pink tongue – my whole mouth feels dry.

His wide eyes never falter…they're _bluer_ than I've ever seen – mine can hardly stay open.

He's a little thicker, and I'm a little longer…but together - we're perfect.

Amazingly different, yet exactly the same.

"Jasper…shit…"

I try to stave off my orgasm. I really do.

I pinch my eyes shut, clench my fists…even grit my teeth…_anything_…willing my disgustingly brittle temperance to _finally_ make an appearance, and exert itself.

But it's futile.

My eyes pop open, and I groan with a mixture of keen frustration and exalted euphoria as cum catapults from my cock, splashing across my abs and chest in thick, creamy cords.

I barely keep my eyes open, but I do, because before my orgasm ceases, his begins. I watch his rapture detonate, flooding my chest with his own seed, crying out various obscenities.

I gaze at him the best I can through my lazy, blurred vision. He's panting, and watching…as far as I know he hasn't closed his eyes once.

Swirling two fingers in our cum, he brings it to my mouth, rubbing it along my swollen lips, then pushing through them. I open my mouth against the pressure, sucking his fingers into my mouth, never taking my eyes off of him.

The bitter tang surprises me at first, but it's not bad.

"Jesus. You're gonna fuckin' kill me Edward." I smile around his fingers, my tongue still twisting around his digits, searching for remnants of our salty cocktail.

I lay back further, his fingers sliding out of my mouth. I don't stop until my shoulder blades connect with the dash.

With a dreamy smile on my face, I finally allow myself to close my eyes.

_Life doesn't get any better than this. _

When my eyes drift open, Jasper's sitting in the driver's seat, and I'm sprawled along the bench with my head in his lap.

_Huh_?

His fingers fondle my hair, while he gazes at me with a lazy smile on his face.

_I can't believe I fell asleep_.

Having recalled the glorious happenings that led me to rudely crash on him, I sweep my hand over my covered chest, to find it dry and clean.

His smile fades, and we just look at each other for some time, not saying anything. The fact is that I'm too scared to right now. I feel very exposed, and very _loved_.

Not only is he _not_ upset or disappointed that I'd fallen asleep on him, but he took care of me after I did. He cleaned me up, replaced my t-shirt, and repositioned me…all without waking me up.

I definitely decide to keep my mouth shut, not trusting my words to not reveal my true feelings. It's bad enough I can't keep the love out of my eyes.

"Welcome back, sleepy head," he teases, throatily, causing my dick to wake up too. His pants are still unbuttoned, but he's donned his outer shirt, leading me to believe he may have used his other to clean up our mess.

I grin, big and happy, stretching over top of him as much as I can, while he rubs soothing circles over my chest. "I can't believe I fell asleep. Did I miss the whole movie?"

"Yep. The credits rolled about ten minutes ago."

My finger skims over a small purple mark on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, hoping I'll have similar ones to fawn over when I get back to my room. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I was relaxin', and you looked so peaceful." He shrugs. "I would've in a few more minutes."

I hoist myself up to place a chaste kiss on his luscious mouth, but he has different ideas. His hand reaches under me, cradling the back of my neck. Dipping down, he kisses me good and thorough, leaving us both breathless when he finally pulls away.

"Thanks for asking me to come with you tonight. I had a really good time."

"Me too," I say, suddenly shy.

We drive back to the inn in silence, but we hold hands, the connection hopefully meaning that he's not regretting tonight…yet.

I'm surprised when he pulls up the driveway and gets out with me.

"I have to get some spare blankets from Rosalie."

_Okay…so how does that statement not beg to be questioned_?

"Oh."

I lay my hand on his arm, detaining him right before we get to the very well lit porch, not wanting to draw any attention to us. When we go inside I'll have to immediately flee to my room, for fear that Rosalie will read me as easily as a _Dick and Jane_ book. Instead of reading 'See spot run' it'll read 'See, Jas make Ed cum…all over himself'.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

And it's déjà vu.

I seem to realize this time is different, but I haven't forgotten what happened the last time I left him, and every time before that.

His vanishing act will be a thousand times worse after tonight.

I cling to him, and he senses my distress.

He gathers me in his embrace, smashing my chest against his. He holds on tight, but pulls back enough to look me straight in the eye. "I can't stay away from you anymore darlin'. Enough time's already been wasted; I won't be the cause of anymore.

"As a matter of fact, I'm drivin' up to Acadiana tomorrow to drop off a headboard and footboard that I made for some friends that got married not too long ago. Would you like to join me?"

He extends a hand between us to prevent my emphatic 'hell yeah'.

"Before you answer, you should know it's a half a day's ride and I'll probably be stayin' in a motel for the night." He looks unsure, and I recognize he's taking a huge leap of faith here.

My throat's clogged and I can only nod in answer.

He's not only asking me to accompany him, he's asking me to meet and hang out with his friends, then spend the night with him.

_As if I'd say 'no'_.

"We'll be leavin' about nine…is that okay?"

"Yes." I turn to walk away, but he grabs my arm, twisting me around, kissing me hard and fast.

"And it's not a date," he states, as he saunters into the inn, leaving me staring after him.

I watch him walk through the door, a humongous grin spreading wide across my face, because…yep, I love him, and this was _so_ totally a date.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> A little reprieve from the drama. I don't know if you've realized that I'm packing a shitload of information into each chapter to keep it at 13 chapters. There was so much that you probably don't even remember what happened in the beginning of the chapter, so I'm providing you with this handy-dandy little recap to help in reviewing:

Three days; no Jasper :( - Razor burn; it was all of the above Ed…all of the above - Crazy-assed twins - mmmm, foooooood - ambush at Jasper's place - tree sex? Oh…um…m'kay - Ed's gotta title for his book; does anyone care? - the non-date including mediocre pizza and dual drive-in grope and tugs - did he really fall asleep? - no more disappearing Jasper – YAY! - the promise of a road trip/overnight stay.

So Acadiana is a long road trip, and lots of time to talk - what would you like Ed to ask Jas or vice versa?


	9. Chapter 9

As usual, thanks to **Leckadams** for spending her hard earned money on this not-so-little story.

I'm sorry for the long wait. I've been down with the sickness, working long hours and had way too many holiday parties to go to.

This chapter started out at 4k. After editing and additions, it reached 9k at the halfway point I said "fuck it" and cut it off. So, this is only half of the chapter I'd planned on giving you.

I have a FGB auction one-shot to write. I'd wanted to get that done before the holiday, but this chapter just kept going and going and going. Anyway, that's next, so you'll have to wait for the other half of this chapter until after that is done. I'm hoping to write most of it this weekend, but you know how that goes…

**Layne Faire** is the best beta EVERRR.

Disclaimer – I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Sex.

I've thought about it - for sure.

I've envisioned it - yeah, _a lot_.

I want to do it - no doubt about it.

And with Jasper…_Sweet, sweet Lord_.

My hands are trembling so viciously at the thought that I have to lower the razor from my face,.

Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I brace my shaky palms on the edge of the sink and stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I don't look like a man about to have sex with the man of his dreams.

_I look like a man that's about to face a firing squad_.

We'd be spending the night together - in a bed. Sex will be implied. Not that I mind.

I want it…_need_ to, even.

There's just one problem.

I've no idea what I'm doing, because I'm in way over my head.

Of course, I get the gist of man-sex. I've watched my share of porn recently, and read enough about it to give me a decent idea of what to expect.

I've endeavored to write about it too, but whenever I do, it seems fake and rehearsed, and I tend to question everything. I mean, how can you write about a dick up your ass when you've never actually felt it? Is it right just to mimic others, taking their words, and descriptions, as fact over the matter? Seriously.

Does your hole _quiver_ in anticipation? Does the burn feel _delicious_?

When Jasper is touching the deepest part of me, will I feel _complete_ and _whole_?

Maybe so, but without actually experiencing it, I'm just writing fiction.

I'm ready and willing - happy to learn the answers to these questions. To personally discover the truth of it all, to base my writing on firsthand experience, but there's no denying the very real base fear.

The fear of not knowing, the fear of doing it wrong, the fear of doing it right - but being _really_ _bad_ at it…

God, I just _can't_ suck at being gay…_please tell me I'm not going to suck at being gay_.

The way Jasper spoke last night…when he described his fantasy - he had me in a role of dominance. In his scenario I'd been the 'bottom', but I was positioned on top, responsible for setting a pace and rhythm…all the while tending to my own needs.

_Holy Hell_.

How am I supposed to accomplish all that? I've never been known for my multi-tasking skills, and I've never stated otherwise, dammit. I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time.

I'm not ashamed; I'll be the first to admit it – anytime - anywhere. He just needs to ask, or maybe I should just tell him straight out.

Now, I'm mad…

I pound my fist and stomp my foot, needing the physical display to emphasize the anger I feel.

…mad that he's put this kind of pressure on me. How am I supposed to perform with such high expectations?

On top of that stress, there are the other questions that continually plague me:

What if I cum as soon as he enters me? What if I cum _before_ he enters me?

What if I'm so scared I can't even get it up? What if it doesn't fit?

What if Jasper wants me to top?

_Oh my God_.

The possibilities for tragedy and humiliation are endless…and the probability of such events occurring is dreadfully realistic.

I'll never be able to keep up with Jasper or his experience, and I won't be as agile or practiced. I won't know what he likes or wants, not like Jacob does. I'll fumble; I'll be anxious and uncontrolled.

It'll be a little frenetic and a lot clumsy.

And I'll probably cum before either of us really wants me to, but I must have faith…

Jasper knows what he's getting into with me.

He knows I'm inexperienced and that he'll be my first. But I'm in love with him. I'll give him all I have; I'll make him feel wanted and loved. I'll cherish every moment with him, and I'll make sure he knows this.

Surely, that will distract him from some of my inadequacies.

Faith.

He's been patient with me all along, so there's no real reason to believe that tonight, when he's showing me how to physically love a man, that he'll suddenly alter his game plan.

Jasper _will_ take care of me.

_Faith_.

XXXXX

I sip my coffee, struggling not to stare out the front window while I wait for Jasper to arrive.

This has to be the first time I'm truly uncomfortable in Rosalie's presence. I squirm in my chair under her rabid scrutiny. She's looking at me oddly, she's quiet and similarly, nervous.

"So you and Jasper…you're…uh…friends now?" _Oh boy_.

"Yeah. Your brother is a great guy…um, we have a lot in common." My eyes drift to her inquiring ones, before they flit over different objects in the room, looking guilty as hell.

"Um, I'm just lucky to have found a _friend_ here." I add, in case she suspects what I'm hell bent on making so damn obvious. I'm not a liar, and I don't like having to hide the truth. I feel really bad about downplaying my feelings for Jasper, but I'm sure she'll understand when I'm finally ready to explain.

I haven't said the words "I'm gay" out loud to anyone other than Jasper, and frankly the thought of doing so scares the living daylights out of me. I've imagined telling Alice, and without fail it causes me to cringe every single time.

I can't even bring myself to imagine telling my parents. Mentally preparing myself to just _envision_ the conversation in which I enlighten my dad turns my stomach.

Just as the thought crosses my mind, my stomach lurches painfully.

_Not ready yet! Not ready yet! Don't go there._

Thankfully Rosalie snaps me back to reality. "Yeah, that's really great Edward. It really is. It's really nice that you've found someone to hang out with. Yeah…really…" Her voice is strained, and it seems like she's _really_ trying to convince herself of this.

I wonder if saying "really" repeatedly can actually make everything seem cool.

"_Hey dad, I'm _really_ gay, but it's _really_ okay. _Really_." _

My stomach heaves, and then drops dead to the floor.

_No, no, no_…nothing's cool…nothing's cool.

"Are you feelin' okay?" Rosalie asks, in reaction to my sickly moan.

"Just a little indigestion." I lie, holding what remains of my hollow abdomen.

I point over to the stack of old blankets folded by the door, searching desperately for any excuse to change the subject, and erase my short-term memory (but only like the last five minutes, because I want to remember yesterday – every second of it).

"What does Jasper need those for?"

"Oh, he covers his furniture up with 'em. Doesn't want to expose 'em to the elements, or have 'em rattlin' around in the back of the truck while your makin' your way there."

"That makes sense."

Her smile falters, and she fidgets with the placemat in front of her.

I've never seen her quite so jittery or…speechless, but I realize where the reason for her discontent is stemming from. She's worried about her brother – I don't blame her, not one bit. One day soon, I hope to rid her of her fears, but right now, I don't even know what I have to offer, or what Jasper's willing to give, and without those answers I'd only make things worse for her.

Looking at her watch for the hundredth time, she suddenly jumps up. "Let me gather some treats for you to take a long with you. I've got to get my hands on some of Peter's cornbread, so you be sure that you swap it for some of the goodies I'm givin' you."

She presses on the door to the kitchen before turning halfway around, her brows furrowing. "I'll bring you some antacids too."

I hadn't realized I still had my hands wrapped around my waist. She nods her head sharply, approving of her own idea, and without another word, leaves the room.

I take the few moments of reprieve to lay my head on the table. I'm a cluster of nervous energy, and I seriously need to get my shit together. I take deep, lazy breaths while I focus on relaxing each one of my muscles - one by one.

It seems to help, because when Rosalie returns minutes later with a large paper brown filled with sweetness in one hand, and a glass of water and three _Tums_ in the other, our smiles seem more genuine than they have all morning.

The awkwardness seems to have momentarily dissipated while we chat about Jasper's friends. She also informs me that Irina and Jane will be leaving this afternoon. They were supposed to stay through next week, but apparently they've been called home for some unknown cause.

I'm not sorry to see them go, they make me incredibly nervous, but I don't wish any hardship on them, either. I hope that all is well, and that they aren't departing under dire circumstances.

As if on cue, their ears probably ringing, Irina skips into the dining room, with Jane gliding in quietly behind her. "Hey Edward!" Irina greets, happily.

I smile back, hoping her exuberance indicates they aren't having troubles at home.

She doesn't hesitate to walk right up to me and circle her arms around my neck. "I'm glad we were able to catch you before you left."

Rosalie sneaks out of the room with an apology in her eyes, but offsets her sincerity with an evil snicker.

I happen to still be sitting, making Irina's hug awkward. I stumble, attempting to stand up and return her hug. As usual, Jane analyzes the interaction without words or expression. When Irina finally lets go, Jane doesn't embrace me but she stands close enough that I can see my reflection in her ever-inquisitive gaze.

"I hope you take much care, Edward." She finally says. "I hope you find life full and satisfying."

I have this sudden urge to shake her, to ask if she ever says anything normal.

"You've changed since we've been here." She notices. "There's a flush to your cheeks, and a sparkle in your eye. Healthier…don't you think, Irina?" Her eyes flicker to her sister for confirmation. Irina joins her sister, placing an arm over her shoulder, while they both study me.

If there hadn't been a flush to my cheeks before, I'm certain there is now.

Irina brushes the heated skin of my cheekbone with cool fingertips. I seem to be paralyzed while the pads of her fingers skim over my face.

"Chase that feeling Edward…follow what makes your heart happy. It will lead you to places and heights you could never imagine," she whispers, as if not wanting to break this spell I'm under.

She withdraws her hand, then states matter-of-factly, "You'll have plenty of hard decisions to make in this life, Edward, so make them wisely. Look deep within yourself; you'll be happier than you ever thought possible. I promise."

I wish I could just blow off what she says as nonsense. She's a young, naïve little girl…what does she know? But her words hit me hard. Neither of them can imagine what I'm going through right now, so she has no idea how much her words affect me, or how they filter into my current situation.

I swallow hard, managing a simple 'thank you'.

I hear Jasper's truck pull up the driveway, so shoving all the weirdness aside, I honestly wish them both well.

After I retrieve my backpack from my room, I notice that the blankets have disappeared, so I head out the front door.

Irina and Jane have accosted Jasper. He's gracing them with his best smile, and I hope it's because he happens to be in just as good a mood as I'm in.

I catch his eye over the shoulder of Jane. His smile spreads further, deepening his sexy dimples. We share a meaningful look, then he winks, before returning his attention to the girls.

Some of the monstrous burden that I've been carrying immediately lifts. Any worries that I'd carried about Jasper regretting any part of last night, or inviting me to come along with him today, are totally erased by the look of pure joyfulness on his face.

As I draw nearer, his eyes continue to search for me. It seems like he's having a hard time focusing on the girls, and it floors me that its even remotely possible for him to feel an inkling of what I do for him, but it's there - undeniably, in his stare.

Once I sidle up next to him, his fiery gaze travels over me, leaving my blood boiling in its trail. His intense perusal finally meets my eyes and he levels me with a look of pure want.

Unf.

That monstrosity of a burden? It's back, in full force.

But I refuse to let it get me down. I'll figure out how I'm going to satiate that fire in his eyes later.

Irina and Jane say their goodbyes to Jasper, and I can't help but notice the difference in the both of them while he's around. As they both stand before him, Irina is more subdued and shy, and Jane…her features have softened and her eyes glimmer, like large yellow sapphires - no persistent judgment or relentless inquisition to be found.

I understand now why Rosalie believes these girls have a thing for Jasper.

They're in complete awe of him.

If Jasper notices, he doesn't seem to mind, but he's probably so used to it, having to endure their odd behavior for the past several years.

"You ready to go?" He smirks, beautiful color spreading along his cheeks, blue eyes sparkling with mischief - and something else.

_Exquisite_.

Yeah, I'm a little afflicted with the awe, too.

I clear my throat, but decide to just nod instead, not trusting my voice at the moment.

Since he's already got the furniture wrapped in Rosalie's blankets; he says his goodbyes to the girls while I get in the truck.

Jasper stops to stub out the cigarette he'd been smoking on the heel of his boot, tossing the butt into a canister in the bed of truck before jumping in. It reminds me that he hadn't lit up at all on our date yesterday.

Once he's buckled in, I ask him about it.

"I've been tryin' to cut down." He shrugs, like it's no big deal.

I want to tell him that he doesn't have to cut down on my behalf; I really don't mind. But if I mention it, he'll just deny he's doing it for my benefit anyway.

He directs another heart-stopping smile at me, before propelling the car in reverse to back out of the long driveway. I don't think he's stopped smiling yet and I selfishly hope that it has everything to do with me.

"So, what's in the bag?"

"Rosalie stocked us up," I say, swinging the brown bag full of goodies in front of his face.

"Let…me…see." I open the bag to a variety of freshly baked goods. "Well, there's muffins, croissants, cinnamon rolls, pastries…"

"I'll start with a croissant and a bran muffin." He decides, reaching for the sack, but I quickly snatch it back, holding it against the far side of the cab, out of his reach.

"Rosalie said to save some for Peter and Embry. She want's me to barter for cornbread," I warn.

He raises his brows, while I hand him a single croissant, but I know the question in his eyes has more to do with my use of his friend's names.

Rosalie had told me about the couple this morning, watching me very carefully when she mentioned that they were gay. I did my best to act unfazed, and amazingly, I hadn't even flinched.

They're not exactly married, like Jasper had said, but they'd celebrated a commitment ceremony in April, which is as close as gays are going to get to marriage in the state of Louisiana.

According to Rosalie, the state won't recognize them as a legal couple, but the binds between Peter and Embry are identical to that of a marriage.

"Your sister told me a little about them today," I answer his unspoken question, and he nods in understanding.

Once the 'Welcome to Bon Terre' sign hits the rearview, I slowly scoot closer to him, edging inch-by-inch across the cab. I stare at him while I make my move, searching for any signs of annoyance or unwelcome.

He hums to the radio, watching me out of the corner of his eye, yet pretending that he's not paying attention. His smirk grows, and his obscure watchfulness becomes more evident the nearer I get. Finally he looks at me, another glorious smirk lighting up his face and eyes.

I return his smile shyly, ducking my head, but tentatively continuing my pursuit.

Sitting in the middle of the bench seat, I gingerly rest my hand on his thigh, just wanting the contact…wanting to be close, but not sure if he'll be receptive.

He pops the rest of the flaky treat into his mouth, wipes his hand on his jeans, then surprises me by hooking his arm around me, and bundling me into his side.

Cozily nestled in his half embrace, I sigh contentedly.

We drive in comfortable silence, while I enjoy the scenery along the interstate. I love this state, how different it is from the fast pace I'm accustomed to.

My heart begins to race, when I realize it's the perfect time to ask him some of the questions that have been pestering me. While I know it's not likely that I'll obtain all my answers today, there are some important topics that need to be broached - some more sensitive then others.

I have to figure out the best way to accomplish my goal without seeming nosy or offensive, by choosing my words carefully.

"Rosalie says that Embry is Cajun and Peter is, uh…white."

"Yep," he confirms.

"Was it a surprise to either of their families when they became a couple?"

"Embry had only come out to his family and friends a few months before he met Pete, so his mom and dad had to get over the shock of their oldest son being gay first. It could've gone better, for sure, but they came around."

He sighs heavily.

"Then Embry's parents learned about Pete, and that was a whole new hurdle for them to get over. To make a long story short, his parents eventually realized that you can't help who you love, and accepted Pete into the family. When his family showed their support, so did the rest of their community."

"What about Peter's family?"

"He only has a brother, who lives in Washington. Pete's mom died of cancer when he was a young'un; his dad passed from a heart attack eight years ago. He'd never confided in his father about his sexuality, since he was still figurin' things out for himself, but when he eventually got around to tellin' his brother, Jared… let's just say it got messy. He'd said some nasty things, they fought, and it ended with Pete in the ER. Jared tried to apologize years later, but most of the damage was irreparable, and their relationship is strained – at best."

"So, how did you come to know them?"

"Pete was my first friend in Bon Terre. And before you ask, _no_, we never dated. He introduced me to The Island for the first time, and that's where he met Embry a few years later."

"So, is Jacob Cajun?" I have no doubt that Jacob is…it's sneaky, but a perfect segue into what I really want to know about the man.

"Yes." He says, briskly. His thigh tightens under my grip, but I don't let his distress deter me. In fact it encourages me to jump in –

- Headfirst.

"Does he know that I'm here with you today? About us going out yesterday?" I ask quietly, picking at invisible lint on my jeans.

"Yes…no. It's…_shit_, it's not like that between us, Edward," he huffs, frustrated, "I don't give him a fuckin' itinerary."

His hand leaves the steering wheel so he can scrub his face, and then there's silence. A shitload of uncomfortable, disturbing silence.

"I'm sorry, I guess I owe you an explanation for him," he acquiesces.

He hesitates, probably trying to decide how to define this sordid 'relationship' to someone who doesn't quite understand this way of life. "Jacob's a diversion, Edward. Nothin' more. I'm the same for him. We have an understanding." He explains, vaguely.

"Is that 'understanding' still applicable while we're seeing each other?"

He looks ill. He's not the only one that finds this conversation distasteful. I loathe it, just as much as he, but I can't move forward until I know for certain.

"I told him that I'd be with you for as long as you decide to stay." His words are somber, laced with sorrow, causing my gut to twist into a tight knot…because I feel it, too. The turmoil I've been battling to suppress in regards to my leaving him is beginning to gnaw at me, begging for further contemplation and a more ideal resolution.

But it sounds like he's saying he wants me too, no matter how long I choose to stay. I'll have to dwell on his words - decipher the context and discover any hidden meanings very soon.

"How did he take that news?"

"I don't want to waste any of our time talking about Jacob." His discomfort is obvious.

It's time to put this subject to rest.

"I just need to know if you'll be seeing him too."

"No. I'd never do that," he insists, quickly and adamantly, leaving no doubt in my mind of his honesty.

He squeezes my side and I writhe, giggling from his ticklish touch, but he's persistent until I look up at him.

When I do, he stops tickling me, but he stares back, hard.

"I promise. I'm all yours."

My eyes drift over his gorgeous face, not ready to believe what I'd just heard.

"You're all mine." I clarify. "And I'm all yours."

_Until I'm gone_.

He's thinking it, and so I'm I. It's in the serious set of his jaw, and the distress entrenched in the steely blue depths of his eyes.

Does he see the haunted emotions reflected back at him?

What have I done?

What kind of situation have I put us in? Is this what he'd been trying to deflect all along by staying away from me?

Unfortunately, it's all beginning to make sense.

_Too little, too late_.

Satisfied that I'd not have to worry about Jacob at least, I drop the unpleasant subject. I search for a new one that will lighten the mood, but he beats me to it, apparently having the same goal in mind.

"So, what kind of car do you drive back home?"

His question makes me smile.

He wants to learn all the little things about me too, and that momentarily causes me forget all about my previous melancholy.

Still, I ask why he wants to know.

"Because you can tell a lot about a person by the car that they drive."

It's funny that he assumes I have a car. I do, but not everyone in my area is as lucky. Residing in a downtown borough, most people rely on public transportation. Here, I realize, having your own transportation is quite necessary.

"Oh…um, I drive a Volvo," I state, proudly.

"So, what does that say about me?" I ask curiously, not expecting to almost fall out of his arms from his raucous bout of laughter.

"What's so funny?" I cross my arms, puffing out my bottom lip in a seriously indignant pout. I imagine I look like a two-year-old, but my car just so happens to be my baby.

"Nothin'." But he snickers, just to prove how much of a liar he is. "It just figures," he adds, his words surrounded by more annoying chuckles.

"Well, _what_ does my car say about me?" I demand, not bothering to hide my irritation - at all.

I give him credit for attempting to stifle his hilarity, but it's still there, watering his eyes.

"Well?" I urge.

"It means you're totally _gay_." And the fit of giggles continue.

_What_? The make of a car doesn't denote homosexuality.

It says that I'm…I'm…practical…and…and sensible.

"Asshole," I fume, but I can't stop the smile that creeps up on my face, and the sudden laughter that bursts from my chest.

Most of the morning is spent learning the little things about each other, playing something similar to _Twenty Questions_.

Halfway to our destination my bladder demands a pit stop. Jasper waits outside while I take a leak, using the few minutes to stretch his legs. When I return, he's leaning against the truck, hands in pockets, an inscrutable expression marring his angelic features. He appears to be deep in thought, and I'd love to know what's going on in his mind.

His eyes glance in my direction, and he straightens out, smiling broadly. I smile back, catching his blush before he lowers his gaze to his feet, running his hand through his hair, scratching, and mussing it deliciously.

Without words we climb into the truck and I resume my previous position, sliding across the bench to burrow underneath his arm.

He slips the key in the ignition, but before he starts the engine, I lift my lips, planting a smooch on the side of his mouth. I back off just enough so he can turn his face more toward me, and when he automatically complies, I kiss him again - this time a little harder. He quickly takes charge, cradling the side of my neck, securing his hold on me, while his tongue presses against my lips. I part them, welcoming his silky tongue into my mouth.

I do some imprisoning of my own, grasping a handful of his hair.

He likes this.

He growls and bites my bottom lip. I moan.

Because I like it too… a lot.

His kiss becomes harsh and wet. With his fingers biting into my neck, his lips and tongue are on a mission, pressing harder, deeper…desperate.

Hot and heavy, my body molds to him the best I can in the tight quarters. I grate my lips and tongue against his, and pull frantically at the hair trapped within my fist.

It never seems to take much to get us going.

After long moments we wrest ourselves from each other, winded, grappling for oxygen.

Both of his hands clutch at the steering wheel while he struggles to regain his composure, eyes pinching shut in severe concentration.

After several seconds, he chuckles darkly. When his eyes open, the blue is sharp…hungry.

"Am I ever going to have you at my leisure or are you always going to drive me to insanity?" He breathes out.

I clasp the back of his neck, drawing him to me again, but this time I don't allow our lips to connect. My tongue flicks the crease between his lips, tracing the outline of his bottom one. As expected, he parts them, but instead of delving into the sweet recesses, I continue to lap at his lips until his tongue comes out to join mine. They mingle openly, swirling and dancing, in wonderful, torturous play. But it's not close enough.

I want to meld…merge. I want him inside of me - and not just his tongue.

He gives in first, fusing his mouth to mine.

His lips are soft, but virile. This kiss is slower, more sensuous, but it's no less aggressive than before. He makes love to my mouth, sliding in and out, pistoning slowly, using his tongue to show me exactly what he'd like to be doing to me with other parts of his body. It's ardent and all consuming. His kiss is a merciless passion that demands nothing less in return, and as if I have a choice in the matter, I give him all I have, hoping it's enough for him.

Jasper pulls away, gasping. "We'll never make it to Pete's if we keep this up."

I blush, slinking back into the comfort of his arm. With his free hand, Jasper not so discreetly adjusts himself. I see the outline of his straining cock when he squeezes it, adding pressure, while he slides the impressive length to a more comfortable position.

Mesmerized, I reach out with a desire to feel that hardness against my fingertips, but he snags my wrist before I can capture the prize. Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses my fingers one by one, even sucking one into his mouth, before nipping at the inside of my palm.

Shutting his eyes again, he whispers against my skin. "Jesus, Edward. Not now…please."

If I were to insist, I know he'd give in. It's clear he wants to pursue the matter, but this isn't the right time or place.

So, instead of persuading him to park in a more inconspicuous area for a repeat of last night, I grumble, adjusting my own erection.

"So, whose turn is it?" Once we're back on the road, Jasper is anxious to get back to our game, and I wonder if maybe there's something he wants to know about me, but has yet to ask.

"I think it's mine. Let me see…"

He had yet to tell me about Alec, and I'd decided earlier that I want him to tell me on his own terms. I'm afraid that if I were to mention Alec, then Jasper would accuse me of engaging in gossip with Seth, and that's not what that conversation was all about.

Besides, it's not fair for me to bring up his ex-boyfriend to him. I'm confident that once he gets to know me better that he'll confide in me - if not today, certainly at some point in the near future.

"So, when did you come out?"

"I was fourteen when I told Rose, nineteen when I told my parents." He didn't have to think too hard about it…barely hesitated, but I guess you don't forget something as important as that.

"Continue," I urge.

He smirks. "There really isn't much to say. I tried datin' a girl named Maggie, but I ended up fallin' for her brother Billy. Rose was more surprised then my parents. But they said they'd love me no matter what. It just sucks that they only have Rose to rely on for grandbabies." He shrugs, but the expression on his face is wistful, almost disappointed.

"You can have kids too," I assure him.

"Yeah, I know." He glances down at me, and shrugs again. "Maybe one day. You never can tell what little detours are going to pop up as you make you're way through life."

_So true._

"So you've never been with a girl?" I ask.

"Nope." He gives me a sidelong glance, "but you have," he comments, softly.

I peer out the side window, not sure what to say to that, so I just nod, silently.

I really don't want to revisit any of those disastrous experiences, and I'll plead with him to change the subject if he persists on asking for more details.

But Jasper is quiet, thoughtful. He looks conflicted.

"Are you sure this is what you want for yourself? Bein' gay isn't all fun and games, Edward. There are a lot of bigots out there."

"Everyone seems to accept you."

He chuckles, but it's wry. "There are still a few stubborn folks in Bon Terre, and we get plenty of tourists that aren't too happy when they see two men holdin' hands."

"Well, I've never been happier, or more content in my entire life than I am right in this moment." I hope he realizes that gravity of that statement – the truth in it, even if I'm not able to express it publicly yet.

"You were never happy with Bella?"

I'm surprised he remembers her name, and by the sudden strain beneath my fingertips, I have a feeling that this is the question he's wanted to ask. So I think carefully, needing to answer this correctly, since it seems to be important to him.

But I struggle.

"Yeah, I was happy, I suppose, in a way. Shit…it's really hard to explain. I was happy when we were friends. Even though the passion wasn't there, I'd really believed that we could make a life together. It's the intimacy that drove a wedge between us. We didn't…" I join my hands, trying to articulate physically what I mean to say, since the words won't come,"…fit…click…I don't know..."

I can't seem to find the words for the feelings I'd gone through during those tumultuous, depressing moments after Bella and I had sex, and I certainly don't want to relive them now, just so he could gain a better understanding.

Thankfully, Jasper either takes pity on me, or somewhat recognizes my incompetence in explaining something so very complex.

"So, she got married recently...right? Are you okay with that?" His concern is endearing.

"Yeah…I'm good," I reassure him.

I kiss his jaw, rubbing my lips against his prickly skin.

"I'm much more than good."

XXXXX

Stay Still _by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

_His back pocket vibrates again, but Jeremy continues to ignore the calls that have been coming in every five minutes. He knows where the calls are coming from, that's why he isn't answering them._

_The room is pitch black. He lets the darkness swallow him whole, wishing he could just disappear, blending into its nothingness. _

_He downs another shot, allowing the fire to dull the pain in his chest and the ache in his belly._

_The goal is to get wasted beyond belief, so much so that he won't remember where he's supposed to be right now, or what awaits him tomorrow._

_It can't be true._

_But there's no denying the evidence. After the fingerprints had been analyzed, and private interviews conducted, the case isn't solid, but it's growing into an irrefutable, cataclysmic mindfuck._

_Pouring another, he swallows a blistering shot of bitterness, and the sting is welcome._

_He just wants to forget…_

_Forget this stupid little town…_

_Forget his job…_

_Forget his duty…_

_Forget his own name…_

_Forget that tomorrow he'll have to accuse his best friend, and the only person that means anything at all to him, of murder._

XXXXX

Next thing I know, I'm being gently shaken. Warm, strong hands seize my arms, a sexy southern voice ringing through the haze. "Were here, Edward. Time to wake up."

I open my eyes as we're pulling into a short driveway. I must've fallen asleep on Jasper again.

I just can't seem to help it. He's so damn comfortable.

Being in his arms is like curling up in front of a cozy fire on a wintery Chicago night, with a big blanket draped around me, soft music in the background and a good book in my lap.

While attempting to pat down my unkempt hair and straighten my wrinkled clothing, I take in my surroundings. We're in a neighborhood where identical, cookie-cutter houses fit closely together on narrow lots. The small, older dwellings are tidy and well kept, with manicured lawns and fresh blooming flowers.

The area is brimming with activity, children of different ages ride their skateboards and bikes down the paved subdivided road, and several neighbors hang over their fences, beverages in hand, engaging in conversation. It's clear that this is a close-knit community and I can't help but think of how differently I'd grown up - how different my life is even now.

Embry and Peter reach the porch while Jasper backs slowly into the drive, making it easier to unload the precious cargo.

Immediately, I recognize Peter from my first trip to Sinner's Island. I don't recall seeing Embry that night, but I remember Peter well. When we were leaving, he'd stopped Jasper to talk, and I was forced to watch Jasper smile at him…touch him. I hadn't liked it, and at the time I didn't understand why. It wasn't until the next morning that I'd discovered my feelings were that of jealousy. Peter had been touching the man I'd unknowingly fallen for.

He's a good-looking guy. He's tall, and like Jasper, full of lean muscle. His hair is a dark, rich brown. He wears it longer, his bangs reaching the bridge of his nose and the back trailing just past the collar of a well-worn _Led Zeppelin_ t-shirt. He sweeps it back from his face, revealing deep hazelnut eyes. His lips are on the thinner side, but his smile is admittedly hot.

Embry is handsome, but definitely, not my type – probably because he reminds me of Jacob. They both have the same olive skin and black hair, the same piercing dark eyes. He's a little shorter than Jacob, and built like a powerhouse. A wide chest, thick neck and bulging biceps torture the seams of his plain gray t-shirt.

I believed Jasper when he told me that him and Peter have never had a sexual relationship, so I should have no reason to believe that there will be any sort of enmity between us, but the look Peter bestows on me when I exit the truck concerns me.

He eyes me, not with curiosity, but with mild derision. It's almost indiscernible, and he quickly hides it under a mask of welcome. He's blatantly standoffish, his eyes avoiding mine, while he favors Jasper with a huge smile.

I swallow down my pride and plaster a smile on my face. Peter's a really good friend of Jasper's and I'd like to make a good first impression. I have a tendency to shrink around people I don't know, giving the false impression that I'm being stuck up. So, before I let my nerves and insecurities get the best of me, I ignore Peter's unfounded disposition and approach with my hand extended.

It's not easy for me.

It's not in my nature to be sociable, especially when I'm being given the evil eye, but when I clasp his hand in mine, and introduce myself to him and his husband, his expression falters, switching to one of contemplation.

After introductions are over, I'm glad to see that Peter's look has transformed into one of plain curiosity. Jasper jumps onto the bed of the truck, and gingerly pulls the blankets away from the heavy oak furniture.

All thoughts of making friends with his bestie flee.

_This boy knows how to carve._

The intricate detail etched into the posts of both pieces is truly marvelous.

This is one of a kind. No one will ever own another piece like it.

Jasper seems to hesitate before he pulls the last of the blankets away. When he uncovers the footboard, it literally makes my breath catch.

A wolf, mid-run, had been carved into the outside of the piece. From its deadly fangs to its protruding nails the mammal looks brutally fierce, but Jasper's caught something else –the subtleness around its eyes and the tuft of fur between its ears, making it seem playful, almost childlike._ Pure brilliance_.

He's an artist.

"Oh my God," I breathe.

It's obvious that a lot of time and effort has been put into this gift, and I hope his friends appreciate it. I drag my gaze away from his mastery to gauge the reactions of the newlyweds, pleased by their appearances.

Peter looks like he's going to cry; Embry is in total shock.

I feel this surge of pride, a knot forming in my chest, as I watch the scene unfold.

"Jasper, this is amazing," Embry whispers, completely awestruck.

"I'm just sorry that I couldn't have it ready for you're weddin' night." Jasper hangs his head in shame.

I don't think I could want him any more than I do right at this second.

And now, Peter _is_ crying. He pulls Jasper down from the truck, flinging his arms around him. Jasper returns the hug whole-heartedly, but he's watching me over his shoulder, an indefinable expression on his face, one that makes my heart pump double-time.

Peter finally lets go and Embry gives Jasper a hearty slap on the back, but then breaks down and embraces him heartily.

Embry and Jasper are the strongest out of the four of us, so they elect to be the ones to maneuver the furniture indoors.

"_Pronga to_!" Peter cries out, as they gingerly lower the furniture to the ground.

Embry levels Peter with a look of measured exasperation, "Weren't you in the middle of making lunch?"

The question carries a deliberate message, causing Jasper to snicker and Peter to scoff.

I follow Peter into his house and even though my eyes wander about his abode, I know he's examining me.

The furniture in his home is older, a mish mash of different styles and flavors. Worn quilts are draped over well-used couches, mismatched living room tables deluged with piles of books and magazines. The mantle over the fireplace is cluttered with pictures, kid's drawings, and a pair of antique brass candleholders.

But strangely, it's not messy. It's homey and comfortable.

It's a room that's been _lived_ in.

Everything in my apartment is stark. No color. No life.

There are no pictures.

I bought all new furniture when Bella and I split, wanting a fresh start. Most of it sits unused. After being in this house, I'm embarrassed by the way I live.

"Sorry, we're still kind of movin' in." His tone is a bit of snarky, drawing my attention back to him. There's a flush to his cheeks, and his eyes are averted.

"_No_…," I insist. "You have a lovely home."

His eyes dart to mine, searching for dishonesty; his expression becoming perplexed when he sees none.

"I love it," I say, not breaking eye contact. "I'd barely call my apartment a home, after being here. I'm envious." His shoulders relax and he offers a closed smile. "But I must know...what is that delicious smell?"

When Peter smiles – he's gorgeous. There's a glint in his eyes and a freshness to his skin that makes him look seventeen. "I have two loaves of cornbread in the oven."

"I've heard tales of this cornbread you speak of. I may not live if I don't bring enough back to satisfy Rosalie."

He laughs then, a lovely melodious sound that's rich and contagious.

"Where are my manners? You want a beer, bro?" He asks, jovially.

"Thanks, that'd be great."

"I'm just so used to people coming in and taking whatever they want that I'm not used to polite company." We head to the kitchen, where the décor is much the same, except for the monstrosity of a stainless steel double oven. It's shiny, newness sticks out like a sore thumb against the tattered cabinets and ancient refrigerator.

But the bottles are ice-cold, and at the end of the day, that's all that matters.

I help build chicken kebabs while Embry and Jasper make themselves busy putting the bed together. Peter coats the assembled kebab's with a mix of Cajun spices before setting them on a pre-heated grill.

Leading me to a rickety picnic table next to the barbeque, we watch the meat cook, while we sip our beers. He tells me about Embry's family, and how almost everything in his house is a hand-me-down from one relative or another.

"It's hard to say 'no', when one sister-in-law lives two doors down, and your mother-in-law lives in the house that butts up to your backyard." He explains.

My eyes widen and automatically shoot to the house only a few dozen yards away.

"No, no, no!" He declares, laughing. "Don't look! She's probably spying on us right now!"

I bury my head in my hands, unable to refrain from laughing at his horrid situation. No matter how much I love my sister, I wouldn't want her residing in the same neighborhood, let alone the same building.

But then I think of Rosalie and Emmett - the idea of living next door to them, and suddenly, I understand why Peter isn't so bothered by having his in-laws so close.

It's worth it.

"I notice you spoke some Cajun outside earlier. Do you do that for the benefit of his family?"

"No, _ami_. It comes naturally. I speak the language of my heart," He states simply. "Embry is my heart."

Peter scratches at the label on his bottle, and he fidgets in his seat. "Look, I'm sorry for earlier. I probably seemed rude, but when I saw you at The Island that night, you looked at me with such derision."

"I did?" I'd been upset that he'd touched Jasper…made him smile, but I hadn't realized I'd been displaying my emotions outwardly.

"Yeah. You don't remember?"

"I remember you, but I don't recall looking at you like that. I-I had a lot on my mind at the time, and I was pretty confused. It had nothing to do with you, I promise. I'm sorry I gave you that impression."

He smiles, taking another long pull from his beer. "So you and Jasper, huh?"

Peter + Rosalie = Alice

"No, we're…uh, just friends."

He looks skeptical, but doesn't say anything.

Jasper clears his throat at the patio door, choosing that exact moment to make an appearance. It startles me, but he just asks if I'm doing okay, if I need anything. I assure him I'm fine, and he stands awkwardly for a few seconds, before turning to retreat back into the house.

When I turn back to Peter, he's grinning.

"Just friends? That's too bad. I was beginning to think Jasper wasn't hopeless after all."

"Why do you say that?"

He frowns. "He hasn't made good choices. I worry about him." Sighing regretfully, he adds, "Have you had the pleasure of meeting his…'_ami', _for lack of a better word?"

"Jacob?" I remember the look of pure hatred he gave me when I left with Jasper that night. I shiver involuntarily. "Yeah…but I can't say it was a pleasure. I don't think he likes me very much."

"He probably pegged you two as being together."

"I can't imagine why he'd think that," I reply, maybe a little too zealously.

"Yeeeaaah…," He deadpans.

He's not buying it, and I'm not pushing it.

"Well, I'm tellin' you to watch out for Jacob. He's got no conscience."

Well, that earns my attention.

"Why do you say that?" He looks undecided, like maybe he shouldn't get involved. "Please, tell me," I urge.

"Dammit." A long arduous pause ensues. "Ages ago, Jacob and I had a little fling. It's not my proudest moment for sure, but I used to be pretty randy, and at one time, I'd thought Jacob was hot." His lips curl in distaste. Obviously, his opinion has deteriorated over time.

"It happened prior to Jasper or Rosalie moving to Bon Terre. Our affair lasted _a whole week,_" he says, sarcasm evident in his tone. "It broke off amicably, and we both went our separate ways."

He takes another swig of his beer, taking his time swallowing, while I wait impatiently for the rest of the story.

When he continues, he's staring back into another time, "When I met Embry it was instant love. I knew the second I saw him I'd never want another. But, I found out the night I met Embry that he and Jacob are cousins." He snorts, "Just my luck, right?"

"To make matters worse, Embry and Jacob don't care for each other, so their relationship has always been tenuous." He hangs his head. "I screwed up. I should have told Embry about Jacob right away, but it happened soooo long ago that I didn't feel like I had to explain. I'd asked Jacob not to say anything and he agreed. He was with someone else by that time, and seemed happy enough with their - uh, situation - that I didn't think I had anything to worry about.

"A couple of years went by, but a week before our commitment ceremony Embry had a small bachelors party that his brother insisted on giving him. Well, Jacob showed up to the party - uninvited, and ornery as hell. He ended up throwin' our week-long affair in Embry's face. Embry called me...once, to get clarification. After I told him what Jacob had said was true, he'd hung up on me and called off the ceremony the next day. He hadn't even called to tell me. I found out from his mother that I wouldn't be getting married." He chokes up, reliving the horrific tale.

"Anyway, I'd never told Jasper about the affair either, and by this time him and Jacob had…well, _whatever_, goin' on. So, I told Jasper everything."

"How'd he take that news?"

"Jasper?" He snickers, "He didn't give two hoots. He thought it was funny until he'd learned of the consequences. He went to Embry right away, and helped me get my man back. He told me that Embry was already beginning to cave, but I still owe Jasper - big time. He's been such an awesome friend.

"I was hopin' that once he realized what Jacob was capable of that he'd stop seein' him, but he thinks what they have is ideal, and that it's not possible for Jacob to hurt him, since they don't have feelings for each other." He pauses for a moment, then grabs my hand, desperation in his eyes."He almost ruined my life, Edward, and I'd only been with him for _one week_. He's had this thing goin' on with Jasper for _years_."

I try to act unconcerned, but I'm shaken. I'm not worried he'll hurt me…I'll be gone in a month, but I fear for Jasper and his safety. Maybe, while I'm here, the least that I can do, is help sever this silly 'arrangement' he has with Jacob.

"Well, you guys are just friends anyway…," he shrugs, but taps his finger anxiously against the distorted wood of the old table.

"Yeah," I whisper, but there's no more conviction.

"Edward…just so y'know, Jasper's been in a relationship where it wasn't acknowledged publicly. It didn't work out to well." Peter's eyes and tone are accusing.

"It's complicated," I say, without actually admitting anything.

"It's worth it," he shoots back.

"I live in Chicago. It's where I'll be going back to in a little over a month. I-I…probably won't ever…," My voice cracks, my eyes welling up with tears, but somehow, I manage to keep them from falling.

"You'll be back, Edward. You won't easily forget the friends you make here."

XXXXX

The kebabs are served with dirty rice and thick, delectable pieces of cornbread. Embry is a kid at heart, joking and relaying funny stories that keep us laughing throughout the course of the meal.

Jasper has remained silent for most of it, only speaking when directly referred to. Jasper's not a chatterbox, by any means, but it's been a while since he's visited his best friend. I expected him to be more talkative.

The kitchen table is tiny, so when we sat down for lunch I automatically pulled my seat away from Jasper's to give us each more room. He must have felt similarly since he'd swiveled his body away from mine, giving us each additional space for our long limbs, but during the meal I also noticed that he wasn't making eye contact with me. I'd even strove to gain the connection on several occasions by asking him pointed questions, but his blue eyes barely glimpsed in my direction.

"So, how long have you two been a couple?" Embry asks, unaware of the mounting tension brewing between Jasper and me.

I'm caught off guard by the question, and I find myself tongue-tied. Jasper watches me squirm, smirking.

"Edward and I are just friends, nothin' more," he answers, in a clipped voice.

I give myself credit for remaining in my seat. I would never have expected him to answer like that. I'd thought that Jasper would expose me as the liar I am to Peter, but he hadn't, and I don't know if I'm more grateful or hurt.

To hear Jasper reiterate what I'd been saying all afternoon feels like a sucker punch to the center of my chest.

"Oh, I just thought…"

"Its okay, _mari_," Peter interrupts, patting his arm gently. Embry gets his husband's meaning, and stops talking.

I stare at Jasper, not caring at this point whether I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve.

He glances over, shrugging carelessly.

I've lost my appetite, pushing food around my plate, while he continues to chow down heartily. He even talks and smiles more after that, while I become increasingly more unresponsive.

We move to the living room and his attitude has changed greatly. He looks at me more, and involves me in his conversations. He does nothing to exclude me, even laughing at my poor attempts at humor. But it's driving me crazy - the way he's looking at me - as if I'm nothing to him…but a _friend_.

There are no secretive smiles, no meaningful glances, or private words…no stolen touches, not like I'd envisioned there'd be.

I feel sick.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon I start to believe the lie, too.

Jasper is so damn convincing, leaving me to suffer silently, biding my time until we get to the hotel, ready to prove that we are so much more than friends.

"We should get goin' Edward," He finally says, as if reading my thoughts. He extends his arm across the length of the sofa, patting me on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

There is no softness to it, nor any hidden meaning.

To be honest, I'm more than ready to leave. I really like Peter and Embry, but my nerves are frayed, and for the last hour I've been struggling not to fall into a totally baseless depression.

"We've got a long ride back home," he clarifies to the happy couple.

He doesn't want to stay the night anymore? Or is this just part of the ruse?

Goddammit, I hate how good he is at this vile game. On the road trip down here I'd thought that Jasper was beginning to have feelings for me, too, but now I'm not so sure.

Am I just another 'arrangement' to him?

Should it matter if I am? I have no right to care. Just because I have feelings for him, doesn't require him to return them.

After we say our goodbyes we head to the truck, but Peter holds me back, handing me a large Tupperware container. "This should tie Rosalie over until the next time."

He pulls me into an unforeseen, but welcomed hug. "It's been a long time since I've seen Jasper like this," he whispers. "Please…_please_ don't hurt him."

I wonder if I have the power to hurt him.

The minute the truck leaves the driveway I'm anxious to demonstrate that we are _not_ just friends, but when I slide across the bench, and try to take his face in my hands he confirms my worst fears by evading my touch.

"Don't," he warns darkly, pushing my questing hands away angrily.

"What the fuck, Edward?" He pulls over, slamming his hands down in punishing blows on the steering wheel. "I thought you said we were just _friends_…_right?" _He growls_._

I'm ready to refute his statement, but he raises a hand, effectively halting the argument that's on the tip of my tongue.

His eyes close, and he utters, "don't."

When he finally looks at me, he's tired and defeated.

"I think you're right Edward. We need to just be friends_._"

* * *

><p>I know…I know...this chapter wasn't supposed to end here, but I had to cut it off somewhere. Well, if you still think I deserve a review (because I still think I totally do), I'll send you the first paragraph of the next installment which should clear up any questions you have about the itty cliffy I left you with here.<p>

Reminder - - I will be posting a FGB one-shot before this next chapter.

Leave me some love. I've missed you guys!


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Thanks to **Leckadams** for paying for this.

So either you are all getting into this story, or you really hated that little cliffy I left you with last time. In any case, I can't believe the incredible response I received from the chapter. You are seriously blowing me away. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I was supposed to work on a one-shot, but the inspiration wouldn't come, and I had to stop once I began forcing it. Because of you girls/guys, these boys are all that's on my mind.

**Layne Faire** is my hero.

* * *

><p>"<em>I think you're right Edward. We need to just be friends."<em>

XXXXX

_Really? Really Jasper?_

Maybe he should inject some 'reallys' into his announcement to make it all seem more believable – not!

I may have imagined he has feelings for me, but I didn't imagine that massive erection in the car earlier, or the way he had to fight to contain his need.

If attraction is all I'm going to get, then I'm taking it.

"I-I don't want to be just friends," I say, bravely – well, somewhat.

"That's not what you told Pete" he argues.

"No, it's not… but it's not like that," I try to explain, pulling against him even as he rejects me. Somehow, I manage the strength to wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life, while he tries to wrench my body from his.

Abruptly, the struggle leaves Jasper, his arms falling limply to his sides.

I take this as surrender, and my mouth finds his with burning kisses that are fueled by a deep, desperate determination to make him believe me – understand how badly I desire him, but like the rest of his body, his lips are stiff and cold.

"Please Jasper…," I beg, "Just give me time. This is so new to me…don't you remember what it was like?"

My appeal affects him; I can tell he's succumbing. His hands remain clenched at his sides, his lips softening under mine, but he's still not participating.

"I'll get this right. I-I pro-promise," I whisper against his lips. I don't know if it's my broken words or the errant tear that slips down my cheek that force Jasper into action, but oh, does it ever.

He nips my jaw while one hand digs forcefully into my side, and the other clutches a fistful of hair, bringing further tears to my eyes.

He pulls away, "Don't play me Edward. Please…I…" He looks lost, but there's a spark of desire in his blue eyes, a beacon of hope, pleading for me not to give up on him.

"I'm not…I won't. I prom…"

I don't get a chance to finish my declaration; his mouth seizes mine in a kiss like no other. With searing intensity his tongue engulfs my mouth, his nose pushing into mine, causing us both to gladly suffocate on our mutual lust.

My hands…his hands…they're – _everywhere_. All at once.

I can't get enough, neither can he.

He's here, I remind myself – and so am I.

This is real.

Jesus, this is _so fucking hard_. I'm so fucking hard.

I have no control. This goddamn passion supersedes all rational thought, governs all motor skills, kills inhibition. It dominates all bodily functions and all transient reservation.

My decimated self-consciousness enables my hands to move freely, and so they do. While his hot mouth devours my neck, my hands skim over silky skin and taut muscle. Fists clench tightly, bunching the fabric of his shirt, causing it to rise and display a tantalizing patch of corrugated stomach. My hand roams over the waves of his belly, dropping lower still, until I cover the front of his jeans, grasping and squeezing his steely rod - feeling it twitch and pulse.

His deep moan causes my dick to leak, accompanied by and a growl to surge from my frustrated soul.

"Take me to the hotel," I demand.

He's in fifth gear before I can blink an eye.

XXXXX

My raging hormones have calmed, the heaviness of the day beginning to weigh upon me. I spy Jasper through the window of the hotel lobby, watching while he secures the room, and obtains a key.

The distance between us is too far for my state of mind.

He waits, tapping impatiently on the front desk, while the girl behind the counter alternates between staring at the computer and him.

I don't blame her. He's beautiful, charming, impassioned - and I almost lost it all…again.

I bury my head in my palms, attempting to waylay the breakdown I'm moments away from having.

When will I stop making these stupid mistakes?

What harm would it have been to tell Peter the truth? Swear him to secrecy and then enjoy the afternoon being the couple I so very much desired us to be?

Instead, I had to imitate his asshole of an ex, Alec. I denied my feelings for him, yet again, but this time he'd overheard, and I'd hurt him. Even though we haven't declared our intentions, I don't hold his feelings of betrayal against him. After all, when he'd repeated my lie, I'd felt it too-the pain of rejection, the sting of feeling used and unwanted.

I never want to make him feel like that again.

Tomorrow, the minute I get back to the inn, it's imperative that I call Alice – persuade her to come see me and Rosalie. I'll beg, if need be. If she doesn't, I'll make a quick trip home or reconsider my position on telling her over the phone.

The thought causes my hands to shake violently in my lap. So soon, after only just realizing it myself, I can't deny that the time is drawing near for me to come out. I hope like hell that informing my family is truly the only reason for my panic, that there isn't some other underlying cause holding me back that I'm not considering.

But I fear…

I fear that, when it's all said and done, – when Alice and maybe the rest of my family know - that I'll still leave my secret here, sinking back into the back hole of my previous existence when I return to Chicago.

I don't want to live out the rest of my life pretending to be someone I'm not.

Thankfully, Jasper jumps in the truck, his easy smile instantly bringing me to the present.

I'll worry about the future later. Right now my sole focus is on this man.

XXXXX

It's eight o' clock by the time we settle into the room. Between the travel and hanging out with Jasper's friends all day I'm beat, but the king-sized bed doesn't stir thoughts of slumber, only promises of pleasure. Adrenaline sweeps away my exhaustion, as though it had never existed at all, and my skin buzzes in expectation, hoping Jasper will finally make love to me.

And as expected, that thought coaxes the fears and apprehension from earlier to return.

I feel him behind me, even before he wraps his arms around my waist. I grasp on to his sturdy forearms that provide an anchor against my whirling thoughts. I lay my head back on his shoulder, shutting my eyes, and relaxing into a level of comfort I've never experienced in the arms of another.

He dips his head, kissing my neck. "You look so tired. We can sleep darlin'. There's no pressure here." His words are a hot lie against my ear. When hasn't there been pressure? He rocks me gently, every movement is like a lullaby, and I feel myself induced into a state of pure contentment, drifting into a sea of luxurious restfulness.

_This is where I'm meant to be_.

It's not the first time the thought has occurred to me, nor will it likely be the last during my short tenure here in Heaven. Sadly, with the stirrings of an imminent autumn will bring with it the sickening reality that Jasper is nothing more than a summer fling.

Albeit, one I'll never forget.

And time, for us, is not an amenity we can consume frivolously.

Eluding a cloud of sleepiness, I swivel around, and circle my arms around his neck. "As if," I contend.

I entangle my fingers in his hair pulling him down for a searing kiss, searching for the same loss of inhibition I'd displayed in the car just an hour ago. Requiring the feeling that doesn't tolerate insecurities or doubt; the one that doesn't care how little I know or how very self-conscious I am on any given day, but the one that pulses with boldness and confidence.

The feeling that assures me that I am worthwhile.

But none of that shit is forthcoming, and in my desperation, the kiss becomes rough. My fingernails scrape down his chest, digging into the satiny flesh of his biceps.

He not only pulls away, but also backs up a few steps.

"Jesus, Edward," he pant's, watching me while he catches his breath.

I'm equally winded, and more than confused. He smiles, stretching his arm across the distance between us to swipe the hair away from my face. His hand slides to the back of my neck – pulling, drawing me closer, until we're nose to nose. Studying me, he brushes a mere suggestion of a kiss against my lips.

"We're always so hot and heavy," he explains. "Don't get me wrong, I love the passion, and all that you do to me, but we always go up in smoke before the fire has a chance to start." He kisses me again; gently, seductively this time.

Strong fingers press into the nape of my neck, while his hips rotate slowly, but insistent against mine, the decadent friction causing my eyes to roll back.

"I wanna _burn_. You make me so fuckin' hot, Edward. I wanna bask in it for a while - feel that heat scorch through my veins. And I want you to burn…_for me_," he murmurs against my lips, his tone pleading for understanding and reciprocation.

"I'm not ready for this to be over yet," he whispers. Capturing my lips in a sweet, languid kiss, he guides my hips in a slow, sensual rhythm…and realization dawns. I get it. I stop forcing things to happen, and just let it be. I follow his lead, savoring the heart-wrenching kiss he offers.

He lifts the hem of my t-shirt slightly to play with the skin just above my waistband.

His hands run along each side of my torso with long, sure strokes while we kiss. It's as if he's rubbing two sticks together…

I feel a spark.

My previously idle hands trace the hem of Jasper's t-shirt before dragging it up and over his head, he does the same with mine. Instead of crashing together at the sight our half-nakedness, I take the time to study him. I run my hands over the flushed skin of his beautifully carved chest, while he leans down and trails kisses along my collarbone. I push my fingers through his hair, and hold him close, while he ravishes my chest with tender kisses. My back arches when he bends further, laving one of my nipples with his tongue before enclosing his lips around it.

"Edward," he whispers on a ragged breath, grasping for my belt buckle, while he continues to suck ravenously at the skin on my chest. I pull his hair just enough to gain his attention, and when I receive it, I kiss him with unrestrained desire.

In contrast to our steamy kiss, our hands are deliberately lazy. Gradually, I pull at his belt letting the leather melt away underneath my fingertips. Once its undone, he lowers his own pants and underwear, so I can finally gaze upon him in all his glory.

I don't hide the fact that I'm taking him all in, every inch of his perfect, hairless body. He is flawless - beauty magnified. His dick is thick, stiff, fluid drizzling down the length of his bulbous head.

His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, watching me while I blatantly devour him with my eyes. His dick twitches and my breath catches when I witness another creamy bead of his seed appear.

_I'm doing this to him_. Me.

The revelation stokes the spark within me, igniting it into a single, hot flame.

I shyly lower my eyes when I realize it's my turn, but when I clutch the waistband of my jeans, he stops me, resting his hands over mine. I don't look up, waiting for some instruction, and it's several seconds before I realize what he needs from me – eye contact. He hooks a finger underneath my chin, pulling my head up until our eyes meet. He smiles, and without breaking contact, removes my hands to finish what I started, bending at the knees to lower my jeans and boxers.

My cock isn't sexy like his. It's a decent size, but it's all veiny and it curves ever-so-slightly to the left, which probably stands out like a sore thumb when it's inches from his face.

Yet he can't seem to take his eyes off of it while he waits for me to step out of my clothing. Thankfully, I'm able to do this without leaning on him, which would possibly cause my jutting erection to poke him in the eye. His tongue sneaks out and skims across his top lip, and when he gazes back up at me he looks - _hungry_.

"Why don't you see it? You're beautiful, Edward." he wonders aloud.

My eyes sting slightly, because it's apparent that he doesn't say it to mollify me; he says it because he means it. He really does think I'm beautiful.

How in the world is this happening to _me_?

Jasper sits on the edge of the bed, grasping onto my hips as he leans back, intending to take me down with him.

_This is it_.

The moment of truth. Suddenly, I'm scared-scared that I have nothing at all to offer him. Scared that I have nothing to keep him with me.

I resist only for a fraction of a second, but it's enough for him to notice.

He freezes, his blue eyes inquiring, searching for the root of my hesitation.

"I don't know what I'm doing." I intended to speak it, but my throat closes around the words, despair trapping them there in a thick, choking knot.

He reads the message across my lips and his concerned eyes turn sad. "Edward…," he breathes.

He straightens then, scooting back to the edge of the bed. He gently clasps my hips, positioning me between his knees, while his thumbs painstakingly stroke my hipbones. My cock hangs heavy in front of him, still semi-hard, even after confessing my inexperience.

"I know darlin'." His lips brush across my stomach, his tongue dipping into the hollow of my bellybutton. When his eyes rise, I see something in them that I would've never expected, something I can't even remember the last time I saw it...

Acceptance.

For who I am, what I am – _how_ I am.

_Dammit_. It's been so, so long since – _anyone_…

He doesn't let me dwell on that for too long, but it doesn't matter, because just like that my nerves are gone.

And he knows it.

He smirks, watching me with devilishly playful blue eyes. He takes my length in hand, and leaning in, licks the head of my cock. I see my precum on the tip of his tongue just before he swallows it.

Shutting his eyes, he hums in pleasure, and I twitch-pulse, feeling the beginnings of a very embarrassingly, premature ejaculation coming on. The shock of its abrupt appearance startles me, and it's only the fear of humiliation that contains my orgasm, but not before a substantial amount spurts from my cock.

Jasper dives down, capturing the leaking fluid on his tongue, carrying it back up to its origin, swirling around the crown of my dick before sucking it completely dry.

"Did you like that?"

I swallow thickly. "Uh-huh," I manage, dumbly.

"Then so will I. _Get it_?" he implores.

_Do unto others as you would have them do unto you_.

"Can I try?"

"Fuck yes…please Edward," he begs, unnecessarily.

I nod my head, happily.

Jasper places a lingering kiss on my hipbone before standing up. He pushes me down gently on the bed, and I wriggle up the mattress to prop my head up on pillows and wait for him.

He sucks in a shaky breath, his eyes shining, burning holes in every inch of my skin and sending blood simmering through my veins.

Crawling over me, lustfully slow, he opens his mouth along different parts of my body on his way up. Licking the length of my neck, over my Adam's apple, he doesn't stop until his tongue is in my mouth.

Jasper lowers his body, and our cocks smoosh together, his hips rotating over mine fluidly. My mouth breaks from his to express my pleasure at the contact, while he holds his upper body up by his elbows. He kisses my forehead, eyes, and cheeks, whispering words that set my soul blazing.

He doesn't stop there. Continuing his journey up my body, he straddles my chest, his legs spread wide. Arranging himself over me, he takes his cock in hand and presses the head against my lips.

And, for the first time in my life, I put a dick in my mouth.

Not all the way, of course. Jasper regulates the amount I can actually take, fisting the difference, which is fine by me, because what he's allowing is still a mouthful.

It's smooth, velvet sliding along my tongue, and salty - but nothing unbearable. His scent is the most pleasant surprise. His odor isn't as strong as I'd anticipated, musky and manly, but not overpowering. Much better than the smell of pussy; which, in most cases, was bad enough to make me gag. He truly smells delicious, and I suck earnestly, happy that one worry is laid to rest.

Taking Jasper's advice, I try to remember what I liked. I've only received head a few times, and the girls that went down on me weren't that experienced, but I do remember liking it when my dick found its way into their cheek.

I tilt my head so his dick rubs and pokes the inside of my cheek, while I watch for a reaction, pleased when his head lulls back on his shoulders, and he groans loudly.

His head falls forward and he stares at my mouth taking his cock. "Fuck!" he spits. He yanks it out of my mouth, but I reach forward, sucking it back in. He lets me, then pulls against the suction until it pops out of my mouth.

"Uh…yeah, do that again," he directs, guiding the head back into my mouth. I repeat the vacuum while he tugs on it, releasing it with another pop.

"Shit, that's hot," he says, with some amazement.

"Yeah?" I question, more than thrilled with my performance thus far.

Jasper drops down, our lips crashing together in a mind-numbing kiss. Hands roam over every exposed expanse of skin, his touch becoming frenzied. He tries to slow down, but my body can't handle any more teasing.

I cling to him when he moves to the side, attempting to put some separation between us, but I follow his movement, hooking my leg over his and continuing to roll our hips together.

"Make love to me Jasper. I need you to…please," I exclaim.

"Not yet, darlin'. There's something else I want to try first, and I know you will, too."

I lean away from him, examining his face. "What's that?"

Jasper's eyes turn predatory when he pushes me onto my back. Once again, he climbs on top of me, sitting right on my dick. He holds his erection, slapping it lightly against my stomach.

Lowering his head, he whispers against my ear accusingly, "I saw you watchin' those two men by the fire that first night, Edward. You couldn't take your eyes off 'em." He watches while my face heats. "Did you like what they were doin' to each other?"

The memory of two hot bodies, sucking each other off simultaneously, flashes through my mind.

"Yes," I hiss out.

He lifts his body, watching my face while he drags the tip of his moist cock along my length, leaving behind a trail of wetness. "Do you want to do that Edward? Do you want to suck my cock, while I suck yours?"

"God, yes," I plead.

"Are you sure about that?" He teases.

My answer is to growl and buck up into him. He kisses me then - long, hard, and breathless. He lies on his side, shifting his position so that he faces my feet. He kisses each toe, and I can't decide whether I'm more tickled or turned-on. He doesn't spend much time on the task though, as we both move in sync, inching toward our targets. As I pass calves, knees and thighs I kiss, lick and suck until finally, Jasper is right where he needs to be and so am I.

I'm out of my element, but I don't permit my naivety to hinder me. I take a moment to breathe him in again, that wonderful scent I find extremely intoxicating. His balls are perfect - a tight package, like a ripe peach, with a perfect seam in the middle. I run my tongue along the jagged line, up the base of his cock, lapping at the salty treasure found at the tip. I roll his essence around my tongue, savoring the taste of him.

I waste no more time guiding him to me, replicating the only experience I have – the Internet. I grab the base of his cock, angling him toward my eager mouth. I swallow as much of him as I possibly can without gagging. Unfortunately it isn't much, but I hope my enthusiasm will make up for my strong gag reflex. As seen on TV, I bob up and down, repeatedly, keeping a quick and mostly-steady rhythm.

Jasper clutches onto my hair. "Edward…darlin', slow down there. You're gonna make me cum too fast." I pull away to stare into Jasper's flushed face.

Maintaining eye contact, he licks my dick from base to tip, over and over again. Like an ice cream cone that's melting in the midday sun, he licks it from every angle until my cock is thoroughly lubricated with his saliva. He pumps my length a few times before he slowly sliding my member in his wet, hot mouth.

The feeling of Jasper's mouth engulfing me resembles nothing of my previous encounters. I'm hypnotized by the sight of his soft pink lips molded around my cock, and the sensation of his tongue circling while he applies a mild suction is almost enough for me to blow my mind and load right here. His slurping, humming…swallowing around me is staggering to watch. He's actually enjoying this, and all I want to do is fill that pretty little mouth with my cum.

_My_ _cum_. It implies ownership.

I don't consider myself a very possessive fellow, but there's no denying that I want to own Jasper.

It's only fair, since I'm pretty sure he already owns me.

Swirling, sucking, licking, - grazing me with his teeth, I can feel myself harden impossibly further from his expert ministrations. Every pore of my shaft is saturated with quaking tension, stiff and ready to combust. Similar madness spirals in the pit of my stomach. I struggle, clenching my teeth and the muscles of my abs furiously, staving off the ultimate gratification.

I want him to feel this way, too, that's why we're in this position, after all. I attempt to shift my mind from the pleasure in receiving to just giving. So, I take Jasper back into my mouth, but this time I go slow, focusing on just the head first, flicking the rim and slit with my tongue. He moans around me, and I stutter in motion, momentarily centering my energy toward fending off my release.

But hearing Jasper moan his pleasure around my dick is nothing short of amazing, and my confidence soars. It's such a rush pleasuring your lover, hearing his bliss - tasting it on your tongue.

It doesn't take long for us to stop playing around and find an extraordinary rhythm. We both moan and writhe in each other's half embrace. Almost simultaneously, we begin rocking our hips, looking for more.

Jasper tugs my balls gently, rolling them around in his palm, effectively throwing fuel on the embers of my desire. I spread my legs, providing further access, and his fingers take advantage, trailing down to the sensitized area just below my balls, and so close to...

It's then that I become incapable of thinking beyond what he's doing to me. I'm on autopilot as I alternate from sucking to stroking.

Suck – stroke – lick.

Suck – stroke – lick.

My every thought centers on where his fingers are - every press, skim, brush is magnified x1000, not one whisper of a touch goes unnoticed. I visibly tense, then relax – then tense and relax…waiting for that moment.

When he finally does, it's like a shock to the system. His finger presses and plays with my entrance and I whimper, my body stiffening under the heavenly sensation.

Jasper presses harder, massaging - lost in his own world of wanton delight. "Ahh, fuck. I can't wait to get inside you. Your ass is gonna be so goddamn tight…so sweet" he predicts, huskily.

A shift…then wet heat, softness, flicking my hole, lapping – it's his tongue…oh my fucking God…

Without warning my stomach contracts, pulsing waves crashing down on me…

"Jas – Jas…" I shout; trying to tell him I've reached my limits. It's enough.

His mouth surrounds me just in time to for my balls to erupt, sending my fiery release down his welcoming throat. He takes every drop of my load.

I'm still recuperating from the richest orgasm of my life when I take his cock in my mouth again. I'm hardly moving, but it matters none as Jasper's doing all the work. His hips move in earnest now, searching for the same fulfillment.

I do what I can to help him reach his goal. My hands slide up his sweaty torso, finding and teasing his nipple, pinching and plucking with my fingertips.

I reach for the other one. He groans, and his hips seize. "Oh fuck…move!" he cries out.

Still in a blissful haze, I don't move fast enough and a flood of cum fills my mouth. I choke, coughing and spluttering a mountain of sperm and spit. Ever resourceful, I use the sloppy mixture for lubrication, slicking and stroking his cock through its completion.

Jasper lays his head on my thigh, and I mirror him. After several minutes of total relaxation, he opens his eyes, a brilliant smile of infinite satiation lighting up his face. Nevertheless, I still can't help feeling ashamed that I couldn't swallow.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't…y'know," I stammer, pointing to the mess on his lower stomach and base of his softening cock.

He rotates his body so that we're lying face to face. He clamps my chin between his forefinger and thumb and lifts my face to his. He kisses my lips softly. "Don't worry about that darlin'. Swallowing takes practice."

It makes sense, so I can't dwell on it - not when I've just had the most incredible experience of my existence. I wrestle him to his back, and hover over him.

"Well, practice does make perfect, and I suppose getting used to the taste is the first step."

I wriggle down his body and lick him completely clean.

_Oh yeah, I can definitely get used to the taste of him._

Climbing back up his body, I tell him so, earning me an outrageously lascivious kiss, followed by words of equal sin.

XXXXX

Stay Still _by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

_The interrogation room is gray, cold and dimly lit, but the air is thick with dissension._

"_Where were you the night of July 22__nd__, around eight pm?"_

"_Are you serious, Jere? You really think I killed those girls?" The hurt is so deeply ingrained in Tony's face, it causes Jeremy's stomach to twist in painful knots._

"_We're just responding to the evidence, Tony," James answers for him._

_James' expression is tight, clearly not comfortable with the turn of events either._

"_What evidence?" Tony sneers._

"_Your fingerprint was on Leah's bus pass. We found it in the dumpster not far from where we found her body."_

"_That's it?" he asks, derisively. "I-I found her bus pass about a week before her disappearance - next to my car in the school parking lot." _

"_Did you turn it into the office?"_

_He hesitates, conflicted. "No," he sighs, "she was in my first period, so I just held onto it until the next morning and then gave it back to her directly."_

"_We need to know where you were that night Tony. Please help us clear your name," James beseeches._

_Tony huffs in exasperation. "I was in Ridgeport until about 2am." _

"_Did anyone see you? Can someone confirm this?" Jeremy asks._

_._

_Tony looks at his 'best friend' square in the eye, pissed off and defiant._

"_Yeah, but I don't recall asking him _his_ name."_

XXXXX

Waking up in the arms of my beloved is surreal. Jasper's head is on my chest, soft snores escaping him.

I don't even know how long I watch him, not wanting to disturb his peaceful sleep. I stifle my need to empty my bladder and fill my stomach, so that I can lay as long as possible with him curled up into my arms.

He's always the strong one, the dominant one, so it fills me with insurmountable satisfaction that he sought me out during the night, needing my comfort.

I love him. There had been so many times last night that the words had been on the tip of my tongue…needing to be verbalized, but I'd held back due to the constraints of our circumstances.

Sadly, there's no use.

And I certainly don't want to ruin what we have by scaring him off.

I don't expect him to feel the same way. In fact, if I cared about him at all I wouldn't want him to.

But I'm selfish. I'd love to hear him say he loves me, but I'd hate if he felt obligated to say words he didn't mean because I forced it upon him just to satisfy my own ego.

He doesn't give away much, but I'd be a fool to think he doesn't care about me - at the very least. What I don't know is how much of his feelings he's willing to admit to me.

Jasper shifts in his sleep, skimming his hand over my morning erection in the process, causing me to wince with yet another kind of ache. His hand falls and rests right above my now straining cock. His thumb twitches, finding the tip of my dick, and I huff in frustration.

Thinking that I'm going to have to wake him soon, I feel the bed shake slightly, and it takes me no more than a second to realize he's giggling.

_The bastard._

"I'll get you back for that." I jump out of bed, heading to the bathroom for a much needed piss. He slaps my butt as I tumble out of bed, and I throw a glare across my shoulder that causes Jasper to guffaw.

Once I'm done, we trade places, and I can't help but watch his toned ass as he heads to take care of his needs.

Climbing back into bed, he lies on his side, facing me. We're just inches away – close enough to feel his fresh breath against my cheek.

"Hi," I whisper, averting my eyes for one shy second, before returning back to his gorgeous face.

"Hi," he murmurs, his smile matching my own. His hand finds its way into my hair, tangling it in the strands, drawing me in for a good-morning kiss.

A kiss that turns into so much more.

XXXXX

In his arms, wonderfully sated, I nuzzle into his chest before resting my chin just over his heart, gazing up at his perfectly disheveled self. What a sight he is in the morning, all tousled and freshly sucked.

Again, I think of how easy, yet how hard, it is to be with him. I'm trying to live in the moment, not to contemplate my lonely future, but it's moments like this when I feel so content and happy that I'm reminded of how short-lived this is.

Looking for a change in thought, I recall another significant event from yesterday.

"Y'know, Jas that wedding gift you made for Peter and Embry is unbelievable. That wolf - it was amazing."

"Yeah?" He clears his throat. "I used to dream about wolves when I was a kid." He blushes, his eyes rising to the ceiling.

He starts to say something, then stops.

"What?" I ask, smiling.

He's conflicted, hesitating.

"In my dreams, I'd be out in the woods, and two wolves would show up out of nowhere. I should have been scared, but I wasn't. They're savage, but these ones were kinda adorable. It was almost comforting - like they were there to protect me, not hurt me." He chuckles, shrugging. "I still dream of them once in a while, especially when I feel stressed," he admits, his gaze lowering from the ceiling. "Did you know we have wolves in Bon Terre?"

I shake my head – too mesmerized by his tale to speak. I'd never had a recurring dream when I was a kid, and his sounds fascinating, especially since he wasn't frightened by them.

"I hear 'em sometimes at night. I feel like they're calling me." He laughs then, luring me from my dazzled state.

"Stupid huh? If I went out there, they'd probably tear me to shreds."

"It's not stupid," I mumble.

He reaches out and touches my cheekbone as if I'm a porcelain doll, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

"I've never told anyone that." I'm not even sure he realized that he verbalized that admission, so I don't respond to it.

"You really should consider selling your stuff instead of giving it away," I say, instead of what I'd like to._ Why? Why did you tell me? _- my heart begs to ask.

But the moment is gone.

"I've thought about it. I've been building inventory for a showroom - eventually."

"What else have you made? Anything with wolves?" If he's created anything else with the beasts, I'll be taking it home with me. Now that I know the story behind it, I can't think of a better keepsake.

"How 'bout I show you when we get back to the inn? But do you really want to talk about that now darlin'? When we could be doing more…enjoyable things?"

"Nope," I answer, without a moment's hesitation.

"Then how 'bout we take a shower?"

_Yes sir. _

XXXXX

Happily walking back to the inn from Jasper's workshop, I can't quell the gigantic smile that adorns my face. Even Rosalie's worried demeanor isn't going to ruin this mood. I give her the spoils from Peter, which causes her face to brighten considerably. I kiss her on the cheek, then practically skip to my room.

The day had gone marvelously.

Dropping down onto the bed, I'm anxious for the nap that will help me recoup from the lack of the sleep the night before and prepare for the evening ahead.

As I fall into slumber though, I have a nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something…

Something very important.

* * *

><p>AN: Hmmm...does anyone know what Ed is forgetting? Well, since it worked so well last time I'll try it again – if you think I deserve a review I'll send you the first part of the next installment. It's true that I didn't leave a cliffy this time, <strong>but the first couple paragraphs set up the scene for the whole next chapter<strong>, and it's gonna be a really good one I think.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Thanks to Lauren (**leckadams**) for purchasing this story almost two years ago, and waiting patiently for me to get my shit together.

Well folks, I got good news and bad news. The good news is I finished another chapter – Yay! The bad news is it's going to take a while to get you the next one. For the next 5 weeks I'm taking an additional class, so I'll be working full-time, and going to school full-time, so add homework on top of that and I'll have little to no free time. I'm going to continue to write when I can during this time and hopefully post as well. My plan is to get the next chapter out in the next few weeks, but I can't guarantee it.

**We are winding down with only a few more chapters to go before the epilogue, and I promise you that every element of this story has been accounted for and will be neatly wrapped and tied with a pretty bow by the end. **

Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews and PM's, you honestly have no idea what it means to me. Please keep sending me your questions and thoughts.

**Layne Faire** is a beta champ. Not only did she make it look pretty, but she did it in less than 24 hours.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Rain fell earlier, making the bayou even more lush and green than normal. With droplets of moisture clinging to leaves and bark, the slow swish of water, and the earthy aroma, it's tranquility personified…for me, at least.

Traveling past a sliver of late afternoon sun, Jasper lifts his face to the sky, soaking up the weakening rays. He looks absolutely ravishing this evening–freshly shaven, low hanging dark jeans, paired with a dark burgundy V-neck t-shirt. His hair is tied back tonight, something I've never seen him do before, but find it sexy as hell.

I sigh dreamily, thinking about our morning tryst and the ensuing shower together before we'd hit the road. So far, he's been an attentive and amazing lover. I expect nothing less when we get around to having sex, which will hopefully come later on this evening.

After arriving back at the inn, we'd both sat in the truck listening to the engine idle, not wanting our time together to come to an end. I'd been pleasantly surprised when Jasper asked me to go out with him again tonight. I'd been quick with my reply, resisting the urge to punctuate it with, "_well_ _duh!_"

When he'd given me the choice of what we'd be doing I went with my first impulse, telling him I'd like to go dancing. Jasper seemed hesitant at first, and I regretted the choice instantly, thinking that maybe I should've suggested we spend a quiet evening together instead. Ever since I saw him dance with Jacob, though, I'd envisioned it was us together on that crowded floor, grinding against each other.

From what I understand, what happens on the island – stays on the island. With that in mind, I'd decided earlier, that while I'm there, I'd be myself. I couldn't wait to show up on Jasper's arm, letting everyone see that I'd snagged the most beautiful guy in the room.

But sitting here now, all I can think about is getting him alone…stripping off that shirt, licking and biting his smooth jaw, tugging on that fucking ponytail…_shit._

Well, what's done is done. I don't know how many more opportunities I'll have to get back to the island before I leave, so I want to enjoy tonight and make the most of what we have left.

I need to expend the energy anyway. I'm full of nerves, as I always am after I've had a new experience in Rosalie's backyard. It seems like whenever I find myself in the midst of the eeriness, something odd transpires. And this afternoon had been no exception.

The remainder of the voyage through the marsh I contemplate the incident that occurred right before Jasper appeared for our date. I'd been in the backyard—on the patio—planning on waiting there for his arrival. But, as the minutes passed, I became anxious for the evening to start and I'd left the safety of the deck.

The backyard is still getting to me; I know it. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I'm doing it to myself. Fueled by an overactive imagination, and an excess of adrenaline, I'm letting one bizarre experience multiply into others. I've never had anything like this occur anywhere else, but it never fails to deliver a shocking message whenever I step onto that soil.

I'd stepped into the gloomy terrain, feeling the heaviness in the atmosphere almost immediately. I'd intended on heading right for the small boardwalk, but when I passed _the_ tree – _our_ tree, I couldn't help but attempt to replicate what happened the last time I'd touched it. My shaky fingers paused while I took a deep breath to calm myself, then I placed them lightly on the bark.

I saw nothing. I felt…

Nada.

Smiling in satisfaction, I'd closed my eyes, tracing the letters 'J' and 'E' with the pad of my index finger, claiming our tree. What I saw after I opened my eyes stole my breath away.

Clear as day, the letters I'd just traced were beautifully imbedded into the bark—right before a gust of wind swept them away.

I'd swear it'd been real…that I'd really seen the elegantly scripted letters deeply engraved into the tree.

It looked real, it felt real, but it wasn't. It's another figment…_again_.

That little patch of land is seriously messing with my head, and unfortunately the tiresome inexplicability of yet another event has affected my mood. I'd love to ask Jasper about it – ask him if he's had any similar experiences there—but I'm certain he'd just think I'm crazy.

He watches me now, giving me his full attention while he skillfully maneuvers over and around a downed tree. I bet he could make it to the island with his eyes closed. It amazes, yet at the same time, irritates me—that he knows this path so well. I tell him this without disguising my annoyance, but he just lifts an amusing brow in retaliation, pissing me off a little more.

"I guess you should be able to, since you apparently go every night," I spout, derisively.

Oh my God, I couldn't stop this…_attitude_ if I tried, but I want to—desperately. I don't want to be in a bad mood. I don't want the crazy things that happen to me in the backyard to affect me now.

But my unfair rant only causes him to laugh out loud, and me to huff in frustration. Not only am I unable to control my ornery disposition; I can't even contain my vexing thoughts.

How often Jasper's been to the island, or what activities he'd participated in while he was there, before we became intimate shouldn't matter to me now. Unfortunately, knowing it shouldn't upset me doesn't quite make it happen.

There's an uncomfortable silence, while I try to shake this shit off.

"Well, for your information, I usually went once every couple of weeks. I didn't start goin' every night until you arrived," he offers quietly, pausing when we make eye contact. "I didn't find any relief, Edward. None." He promises.

The implication of what he's saying, and _why_ he's conveying it, creates a warm, mushy feeling inside me. Hearing him confirm what Seth had already told me—that he really hasn't been with anyone since I've been staying at the inn—effectively ends my bout of insolence.

Jasper seems to sense the change in me, and shakes his head, chuckling.

"Aren't you a little moody?"

"Yeah… sorry…lack of sleep, I suppose," I concede, refusing to let the earlier incident, or my wayward insecurities, mar my evening with Jasper.

"I guess I'm gonna have to make sure you sleep well tonight then," he suggests.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," I shoot back.

"You, my darlin', have _everything_ to say about that."

Jasper navigates us into the wider, cleaner waters with extreme ease. Straightening up, he raises a brow in challenge, but there isn't any residue of agitation left in me, and I smile conspiratorially at his invitation to spar.

He winks at me, then waves jovially to a nearby police officer patrolling the area in a well-lit motorboat, overtly displaying "_Bonnefoy_ _County Police Department"_ painted in bold black letters on each side of the water vehicle.

"How are they so blasé about all of this…debauchery?" I ask, signaling toward the cop. I'd noticed them before, but I didn't have the nerve to ask about them. Every other time I've been in this boat, there'd been so much discord between us that conversation seemed out of the question.

Jasper laughs, clearly in a stellar mood tonight. He's acting differently since our road trip to Acadiana—but not in a bad way.

Actually, it's been in a really good way.

He's been smiling…a lot. And he's really playful.

"They allow us to go a little overboard on the island, figuring that if we fulfill all our disturbing tendencies out here than we'll be less likely to do it in front of polite society."

"So, why do they even bother coming out here? They don't start trouble?" I ask, still gawking at the authorities.

"They're here doin' their job—by keepin' the peace. They make sure there are no fights and all the drunks get home safely." Jasper shuts off engine and docks the boat.

He stares at me incredulously. "We're not reprobates Edward. They don't hate us. On the mainland we don't change—we're still gay and most of them accept us the way we are. We date, we hold hands, we even kiss a little, and it doesn't bother people much. It's when we're not so civil that our actions aren't readily tolerated." He shrugs, then continues, "But, we don't mind this none."

Jasper jumps off the platform into the soft sand. He smiles, walking backward toward our destination. He's a few feet ahead of me, his eyes shining, and he looks so fucking sexy. His arms spread out, as wide as the smile on his face. "This is our island Edward, and we welcome whoever wants to come. So, what're ya waitin' for?" He turns around, running toward the bar, with me racing to catch up.

_I'll follow him anywhere._

XXXXX

Stay Still _by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

"_So, am I being charged, Sheriff Whitlock?"_

_Jeremy's gut wrenches at the formality of Tony's words and the blank look portrayed in his eyes. _

"_No." Jeremy relents._

"_Good…then I can go?" He doesn't wait for an answer, abruptly standing up and jarring the steel chair when he does. James jumps to his feet, intending to follow him, but Tony turns angrily. "No need for an escort James, I've been here enough to know my own way out."_

_It's true. He'd just been to the station three days ago, sharing a couple of loaded pizzas with the two of them. He'd made sure Jeremy and his deputy had eaten when they'd spent late nights working on the case._

_The case Jeremy had been building against him._

_The door opens, revealing a desperate looking Maria pacing the floor on the other side. She doesn't look past Tony's slumped figure, only having eyes for her brother. She puts an arm around his waist, ushering him away._

"_Fuck," James utters, his head hitting the interrogation table._

"_I can't believe this," Jeremy manages to grit out._

_James raises his head, staring at the wall ahead. "Well, you know what they say about keeping your enemies close…"_

_But Jeremy couldn't believe that. _

_Had their entire friendship been a lie?_

XXXXX

The night is young, but the bar is already swarming with men, and a slew of women. Apparently, there are a few bachelor/bachelorette parties in progress—explaining why the guys and gals are outside, doing their thing on a Sunday night. I don't bother lingering out there—not when I'd rather walk in on the arm of Jasper instead.

He seems to be sociable tonight. With Jasper's arm wrapped around my waist, he stops at several tables along the edges of the bar to chat with friends or acquaintances of his. There's no doubt we're here together—and he's letting everyone know it.

We sit at a crowded table, full of his buddies, and they introduce themselves, but it's already too loud and overwhelming for me to hear most of them. I'm not concerned, figuring I'd just ask Jasper for a recap of their names later.

We're only chatting for a few minutes when I feel a soft tap on my shoulder.

"Hey Seth," I greet, genuinely happy and slightly abashed to see him. My face heats in remembrance of my previous display of misplaced affection after I'd only just met him.

I feel extremely guilty for kissing Seth; even more so for just leaving the poor boy standing there afterward. He didn't have any idea what was going on with Jasper and I, and didn't deserve the way he was treated by either of us.

Yeah, I'm going to have to apologize for that one.

I shouldn't have let Seth kiss me—I shouldn't have kissed him back, and Jasper shouldn't have yelled at him. Nonetheless, here he is, standing in front of us with no hard feelings, offering a bright smile and looking as friendly as ever.

Seth says "Hi" around the table, his cheeks turning pink under the perusal of Jasper's friends.

I notice one guy in particular staring at him in a way that sets my own skin on fire.

"Get lost Seth," Jasper seethes.

"No," I counter, holding onto Seth's arm firmly, not allowing him to be punished for something that hadn't been his fault. "Stay."

I beseech Jasper with my eyes, silently asking for his trust. When his eyes soften, I know I've got his acquiescence, and I reward his yielding nature by planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "We're going to go get a drink. I'll be back."

He growls, but smacks my retreating ass. I've noticed he likes to do this. I've also noticed that I don't seem to mind when he does. I'm actually quite fond of him touching my ass—and the sting isn't all that unpleasant, either.

Miraculously, we reach the bar without getting groped or manhandled along the way.

After ordering beers, we embrace briefly, and I love the way our hug doesn't seem forced. Sadly, I wish I felt this comfortable with just one of my 'friends' back home.

"So, I see you and Jasper are here 'together-together' this time," he deduces, nudging my elbow with his. I smile bashfully in return, watching his beautiful light green eyes sparkle with understanding while his gaze drifts from Jasper's table back to me.

"Holy shit, it's as serious as all that?" he guesses, while his finger skims over my heated cheek. I peek at Jasper, discovering that he's been observing us. I wink at him, before turning back to Seth, who is also eyeing Jasper with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Stop messing with him, Seth."

"C'mon…look how cute he is when he's irritated," he implores, with a devilish smile.

"Yeah, he is isn't he?" I concede, with an inordinate degree of pride. My date is _hot_…which reminds me...

"So, what's up with the way the gorgeous guy sitting across from Jasper was staring at you?"

Seth glances over to the table, quickly blushing when he notices that the good-looking man is also gazing in our direction.

"You must be mistaken. That guy is way out of my league."

"I don't think he agrees. You should ask him to dance," I suggest.

"And watch him laugh in my face? No thank you."

"I think you're wrong – I saw the way he was looking at you."

"He's been around a while, Edward," Seth replies, resignedly. "If that were the case, he'd have already made it known."

"Maybe he's just shy," I reason, although it doesn't seem fathomable.

"Yeah, right…did you even look at him? Boys that look like that—they aren't shy."

"Well, I think you'd make an adorable couple."

"Whatever," he deadpans.

Chuckling, we simultaneously turning to the bar when our beers arrive and take long pulls from the icy bottles. When I place mine back on the bar, I find Seth watching me with a huge smile on his face, instigating a fit of laughter.

"What?" I ask, self-consciously.

"You look so different from the last time I saw you. You were so unhappy and confused…like tense and unsure." He stiffens his whole body, painting a sad look on his face to illustrate his point.

"Shut up. I didn't look like that," I admonish.

"Well, Jasper clearly brings out the best in you," he decides with satisfaction, relaxing his posture again.

"Yeah?" It's not like _I_ haven't noticed. I sense the resplendent happiness that seems to radiate throughout me, but I didn't think it'd be that visible to others.

I wonder if Jasper notices too. _Maybe that's why he's been so happy_.

"So, Jasper's sister's gotta be delighted he's moved on."

_Aw, shit_! I was supposed to call Alice this morning and arrange some visitation. _Dammit_. I guess one more day isn't going to make a difference. It's too late to start worrying about that now.

"What's up?" he asks, detecting my brief plight.

I shake my head, "Nothing, I planned to call my sister today and forgot. But, to answer your question—Rosalie doesn't know yet."

"Why? What's he waiting for?"

"Me," I admit, reluctantly.

I don't know what it is about Seth that makes him so approachable, but I spend the rest of my beer telling him about my dilemma—that I wanted to apprise my family first, but I'm frightened of how they'll react.

Seth offers the right amount of sympathy and understanding to make me glad I've confided in him. It's nice to finally talk about it with someone—especially someone who doesn't have a vested interest. He encourages me to open up and talk to Jasper about it, but something still holds me back from doing so.

And I'm not ready to admit that reason out loud – even to Seth.

The truth of it is, I don't want to lie to Jasper.

Telling him my only issue for not 'coming out' is that I'm waiting to inform my family seems like an outright lie - and until I figure it out for myself - I don't want to mention it to him.

What if, after I've spoken my family, I'm still not willing to be open with my sexuality?

I'm convinced that I won't have my answer until I've told them. In the meantime, I refuse to promise Jasper something I'm not sure I can give him right now.

"Oh well, it's not like your sticking around anyway."

He studies my stricken expression, then snorts, shaking his head in mild disgust. He's about to say something that, based on his facial expression, is guaranteed to annoy me, but I'm saved by a large man laying a hand on Seth's arm.

"Hey Seth…y'wanna dance, baby?" He's cute, but a little on the heavier side - and older.

Seth looks contemplative, before nodding slowly – decisively.

His smile is forlorn. "See, Edward," he hitches a thumb in the direction of the guy that's asked him to dance – the shimmer gone from his eyes. "This guy…he's in my league. I've tried to play with the big boys, and I've paid for it."

He slams the remainder of his beer, and I watch as he leads the stocky man onto the dance floor.

He's wrong. He can do so much better than that.

I sigh, searching out Jasper with my eyes, watching from a distance while he laughs and converses with his friends.

"_Well, it looks like you're not sticking around anyway_."

Seth's words haunt me.

Why am I standing here when I should be spending every single minute I have left with Jasper?

Placing my empty bottle on the counter, I grasp the fresh one that has just been delivered. When I turn, I notice Jasper's gorgeous friend sitting at the bar, with a big sexy pout on his face_. I still have eyes…_

He directs a glare toward the dance floor, before hunching up to the bar.

A matchmaker - I am not, but it doesn't stop me from leaning across my seat. "He's single, y'know."

He has a killer smile, one that makes me a little fainthearted. "What makes you think I care?" he contests, his voice smooth as satin.

"You-you stare at him," I stutter.

His smile falters, turning a wistful glance toward Seth's dancing figure.

"Yeah, well, it's more complicated than that."

"Complications can yield the best rewards," I rebuke, a little braver.

"Good advice," he concedes.

We both stare at each other while we take swigs from our beers.

"So, you're Jasper's boyfriend, huh?" _Boyfriend_…I wish.

"Uh well, it's complicated," I throw his words back at him, hoping it will effectively divert the question.

"Complications yield the best rewards," he repeats, causing us both to chuckle.

"You pay attention."

He just nods, then tips his beer in my direction, before pulling on it again.

I extend a hand. "I'm sorry I didn't catch your name back there. I'm Edward."

His grip is strong, and sure. "It's nice to meet you Edward. I'm Garrett."

Garrett glances across the bar, the smile he's sporting disappearing in a flash. I'm afraid to see what Seth has done to cause such a disgusted look to pass over his features, but I hope he didn't go to the backroom with that guy. Seth clearly wasn't thrilled with the man's company, and he deserves better than to settle for some tepid attraction.

"What's wrong?" I ask, cautiously.

"How close are you and Jasper?"

"Very close, why?" I ask, noticing his tensed posture—like an agitated animal ready to pounce.

"Because Jasper has never turned down Jacob, and well, he just walked in."

"Jasper wouldn't do that to me," I say, but my newly born confidence plunges when I watch Jacob stride in, exuding grace and sex appeal. Men stare at him, lustfully, from every direction. Seth's even stopped dancing and is also ogling the man.

"Are you a fan too?" I manage to say between gritted teeth.

"Me? Absolutely not. I wouldn't touch that bastard with a ten-foot pole." Looking around, he grunts. "But it appears we're in the minority."

Garrett's right, but Jacob doesn't even notice the attention he's drawn. He only has eyes for one man, and I know the very second he finds his prey.

I watch, paralyzed when Jasper's eyes fall on Jacob in mid-conversation with his friend. They connect, and their contact doesn't break.

Jacob doesn't waste any time heading in Jasper's direction.

It's like watching two cars just moments away from colliding. You want to stop it from happening – but it's inevitable.

"What are you doing standing here with me? Go get your man. Don't let him win." Garrett nudges me forward, finally waking me up from my daze.

Jacob reaches him before I do, automatically pulling Jasper into his side, to kiss his cheek, like he'd done the last time we were here. I stumble when I realize that Jasper has yet to pull away from him.

_He won't do this to me. _

I pray I'm right when I step up to them. I think I stop breathing when Jasper seems startled, then angry at my sudden arrival.

He's about to say something to me when Jacob interrupts. "Oh, hi…_Edmund_, right?" He puts extra enunciation on his mistake, and I'd wager he's done it deliberately.

Jasper stiffens, turning his attention back to the man with his arm still around him. "Don't act like your surprised to see him Jake. I told you that I'd be here with Ed_ward_ tonight."

So, he'd already warned _Jake_ that he'd be here with me.

Just fucking great.

"But _chéri_, when you stopped by this afternoon I told you that I'll be parting with shipment soon, and won't be back for sometime. You said you were bringing your _friend_ to dance. Yes? I only thought we could spend a bit of time together, then you can dance with your _ami_."

Jasper stopped by Jacob's?

He's still seeing him?

To say that I feel betrayed and hurt is an understatement. I wish I could run, but there's nowhere for me to go. I'm on an island for christsakes…trapped here.

Maybe I can catch a ride with Seth.

Without thinking, I'm backing up.

"Don't do it," Jasper warns, lowly. His tone is dark and threatening, but there's an edge of desperation in his eyes.

He finally pushes Jacob's hands away from him. "Then you misunderstood, Jacob. I felt like I'd made it explicitly clear when you asked me to drop off the part you ordered from Emmett that I'd be here _with_ Edward – in every sense. I never mentioned comin' here with just a _friend_."

I should have never doubted him. _Dammit_, but it's still so hard for me to believe that someone like him would only want me.

"What are you saying Jasper?" Jacob insists.

"He's saying that he's here, with me…together." I finally take a stance, placing my arm around Jasper's waist—pulling him close. He doesn't mirror the action, but I take comfort in the fact that he hasn't pushed me away.

"So, are you saying you'd prefer to spend the evening with this _gens_ rather than with me?" he says, eyeing me with disbelief.

"I don't know why you're doing this Jake, but since you are, I'm tellin' you, again, that I'm here with Edward and _no one else_. Now if you don't mind, I promised him that'd we'd dance…_among other things_." The last three words are said in such a way that there is no uncertainty as to what the meaning is.

Jasper leads me to the dance floor, spinning me around forcefully. The syncopated sound of bass and snare drums thrum through the sound system in a delightfully sinuous melody, making it difficult to hear Jasper's voice, but I cope, and his angry words cut deeply.

"I trusted you with Seth, so why couldn't you trust me to handle Jacob?"

His point is valid, and I start to respond, but my mouth clicks shut when I realize I don't have an acceptable explanation.

He shakes me softly, his anger giving way to a hurt that is plainly visible in his eyes. "Why?"

And the pain in his voice goes straight to my heart.

"I'm so sorry Jasper…I just want to be with you so badly that I wasn't thinking. I know you have…something…with him, and I don't want him to steal you away. I should have trusted you, I was just so scared," I appeal to him, clutching at his neck, trying to pull him closer to me, but he flips me around, ripping my shirt over my head in the process.

When he tugs me back against him, the bare skin of my back connects with his shirtless chest. Wrapping his hands around my middle, he thrusts his groin against my ass.

"We've already had this conversation, so don't doubt it Edward. While you're here, you're mine, and I'm yours."

While it's no declaration of love, it still means everything to me.

I raise my hands, hooking them behind Jasper's neck, rotating my ass against his cock. He holds my hips tightly, and it doesn't take long for us to find a mind-blowing rhythm that rapidly drives me to the very brink of my sanity.

I want him so much that I ache.

One of his hands comes up to tangle in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck to his hungry mouth. He dips right in for a taste.

His fingernails scratch at my scalp while his other hand settles on my waist, digging into the smooth flesh located there. His dick pulsates to it's own beat, relentlessly yearning against my backside. I feel his desire…his longing, pressing, needing, begging.

I'm helpless when his blistering palms spread over my body, roaming…heating every inch of my chest and stomach, desperately kneading and squeezing. At this point he's only able to give by taking what he needs, and I love his abandonment. I don't just eat it up, I swallow it whole, consuming every one of his greedy touches like a starving man.

He pauses at my nipples, tweaking them, and I arch into his hands, pushing my ass into his rock hard erection at the same time.

"Kiss me," I plead, turning my face to his. It's an awkward angle and our lips barely meet, but our tongues urgently twist and flick against each other. I cry out when he latches onto my dick, massaging me through my jeans, until I can't stand the torture any longer.

I turn in his arms and our mouths immediately open for one another, my shaft mashing directly over his, steel meeting steel. We manage three dances…three dances of unadulterated agony, and I'm about to blow my load.

Apparently he feels the same way.

"Let's get outta here," he proposes, gruffly.

"No. Here. I can't wait. I want to taste you now," I respond, fiercely.

Jasper looks confused.

"Take me to the back." My smile is wicked, filled with pure naughtiness.

"No," he insists, stubbornly.

_Huh?_

"I want to go back there. Please Jasper."

"Why?" His question perplexes me. _Isn't that what one does when they get horny and they want their partner?_

"You don't want to take me back there?" My voice is small, and I can't quash the feeling of rejection.

Jasper looks unhappy, but he swivels, grabbing my arm and leading me toward the back. "Fine. C'mon."

First and foremost, I want to go to the backroom to express my very primal need for Jasper, but I have to admit there's also this base urge to claim him as mine. My eyes scan the bar, making sure I have an audience of one. Jacob. It's important to me that he sees Jasper taking me back there—and he does. I only give him a moment's notice, like an annoying task I'm able to check off my list, then move on without a second thought.

I gawp at Jasper's butt as I follow him to the entrance of the pleasure filled area. Our t-shirts hang from the waistband of his low-rise jeans, a drape hiding his gorgeous ass I'm only moments away from having my hands on.

The doorway is covered with a dark, thick cover. He pulls the fabric aside, before ushering me through. Once we make it back into the dimly lit area I tackle Jasper, kissing him passionately.

He's all I want.

All I think about.

But Jasper pulls away irritably.

"Jasper, what's wrong?" I question, breathlessly. But I see I've gotten way ahead of myself when Jasper stands idle and calm…deathly calm.

_What have I done now_?

"Look around you," he spits out.

_Huh? Okay_...

My eyes flit across the room impatiently.

Sheer curtains dangle everywhere, giving couples the illusion of semi-privacy. The air is damp, and reeks of sex, but it's not unbearable.

My eyes turn back to my love and he sees my confusion.

"Really look Edward," he demands, sternly.

My aggravation escalates; my focus becomes more acute. My eyes dart around the area.

"What do you hear?" he beseeches.

"Um, what do I hear? I hear grunts, moans…gasps…uh, _whimpers_?" I answer, locating where the latter noise is coming from. I spy a middle-aged man with hair covering his entire body, except for the crown of his head, sweating profusely. He wears a wedding ring as he pounds into a bent young boy, probably just old enough to get into this bar.

Jesus, the boy's got braces, for christsakes.

I quickly turn away, sickened by the sight just to be tormented by another - an obese man lurking in the corner, watching…_us_, while he strokes himself. His breath whistles through the large space between his front teeth, he whacks his tiny penis.

Jasper's voice is raspy against my ear. "This isn't what you think it is. It isn't sexy, Edward. This place is filth. Just look at what you're stepping in for fucksakes. _Look closer_," he commands.

He turns me around harshly, holding me tightly, so that my back presses against his chest, and my face is inches from a grimy wall. I'm sure it was once painted white, but it's now stained with dirt, sweat, cum and God knows what else.

I'm disgusted, and all the lust and desire I felt at being back here with him has died.

"This is where we go to simply satisfy an urge…to curb a craving. We come here because we don't want to take each other to our homes. Taking them home makes it _something_…it makes it _real_."

He turns me swiftly, gripping my face in his hands. Stabbing me with his piercing blue eyes, he whispers urgently…pleading for me to understand "You…Edward… You. Don't. Belong. Here. _We_…," he states, waving his hand between us, "…are better than this."

He brushes tears from my cheeks that I hadn't known were there, and envelopes me into his warm chest. I lean in, digging my fingers into the supple muscles of his back. He didn't want to bring me back here, not because he didn't want me or is ashamed of me, but because he thinks I'm better than this…better than anyone else he's ever brought back here.

This isn't a place you take someone you have feelings for.

I look at him with undisguised adoration in my eyes. "Let's get out of here."

We walk back through the bar toward the exit, our arms securely fastened around one another. Jacob is standing by the door with an arm draped around Seth, and there's no way we'll escape without one more confrontation.

"Where are you guys off to so early?" Jacob asks.

I keep my head down, letting Jasper handle this. At this point, I don't care what Jacob knows, or doesn't know.

It's insignificant.

I glance up at Seth, willing him to stay the fuck away from Jacob, but he doesn't even see me. He only has eyes for that asshole. Even though those eyes don't seem to be very happy right now.

Garrett's in the corner, staring moodily at his beer, and I want to scream out in frustration, but it's their problem—not mine.

I realize I might never see Seth again, and I do want him to be happy, but he's not a boy, he's a man—making his own choices.

Jasper glimpses down at me with a wide, happy smile, and everything but him is forgotten. He winks, and without even glancing at Jacob, answers his question with one final, softly spoken word.

"Home."

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><p>AN: lol, so if you've read any of my other stuff you know my stories aren't all about the sex, but no fear, the moment you've been waiting for is up next. By the way, don't think we're finished with Jacob yet…<p>

As a matter of fact, this story will begin heating up next chapter in more ways than one, so since it's been working so well, I'm offering the same deal – with a review I'll give you a sampling of the next chapter but **this time you get a choice of two different teasers**. Let me know if prefer the **'Hell Yeah!'** or the **'Oh No!'** snippet. If you don't specify I'll just pick one for you. ;)

If you haven't told me what you've thought of the story yet, there is no better time to start; we're getting to the best parts!

Until the next time…xoxo


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Thanks to **Leckadams** for spending her money, so I'd write this.

I had a couple banners made for me this week, but I don't have them on my profile yet, I'll mention them and the creator's next chapter when you're able to actually see them.

I skipped out on my homework to write this chapter, because you guys have been truly amazing to me. I appreciate all the support. There were a couple of you I couldn't reply to the last couple chapters because you have your PM's turned off, so thanks for all the support.

I couldn't ask for a better beta – **Layne Faire** is the bomb.

**So, I told you last chapter we'd be picking up the pace. Here we go…I hope you guys are ready…**

**AND have been paying attention. :)**

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

The boat ride is wickedly intense. My skin prickles with excitement and _thrill_.

It's silent, but our eyes lock, and this time it doesn't bother me in the least that he seems to navigate blindly.

I analyze the last word he'd spoken. _Home_. Such a harmless little word, but with it carries the possibility of such monumental consequences. I pick the simple, but complex, term apart – dissecting it, considering each context, on every different level, scale and angle.

Of course we're going _home_. But is he referring to my temporary residence – possibly to hang out – play a game of cards or pool? Does he mean the backyard again, for a little forbidden rendezvous, hidden in the sumptuous blackness to continue what began on the island? Or to _his_ home, at last placing my virginity at stake?

He docks the boat quicker than ever, grabbing my hands to help me exit the swaying boat. His grip doesn't relent; in fact, it's tighter – as if he thinks I'll flee when my feet hit solid ground.

_Fat chance_.

The only thing discernible in the darkness is the light from the Stormy Haven Inn's windows. Even though midnight approaches, they shine with continuous effervescence. Jasper doesn't hazard a glance in the structure's direction when we pass by, striding determinedly through the enchanted forest, directly up the porch of his cabin.

This is enormous for us, and I'd love to hesitate at the door, savoring the special occasion. But Jasper doesn't bat an eye, not pausing for a moment, simply swinging the door wide open and hauling me inside.

Indoors, it's cozy warm, just like you'd expect a log cabin to be. He doesn't allow me any time to look around before I'm being kissed – and pushed – and kissed. His mouth is so fucking delicious…absolute best thing I've ever tasted in my life.

The hands on my chest are an insistent force causing me to stumble backward several steps, directly into the landing of the stairs that lead to his loft.

The stairs are steep, almost like a ladder. The pressure Jasper is applying relents, but I refuse to break our connection. Awkwardly, I take each of the small steps slowly and carefully, while our kiss never loses its momentum. He presses against me while I climb, ensuring my safety, while I slide up each narrow rung.

He does pull away when I reach the top, letting me situate myself so I don't fall on my face.

His room…oh, my God.

So beautiful, so comfortable, so sexy.

His bed paints an erotic image…a king-sized bed in the middle of the back wall, centered between two large picture windows. It's unmade…slept in – his pillows are strewn about, the stark white sheets are rumpled and inviting.

Unlike the rest of the cabin, his bedroom has drywall, tinted a deep pea green.

The clothes that he'd been wearing yesterday hang over an oversized chair that rests along the railing on the opposite side of the room, a guitar propped up against it. A closet is tucked into one corner, and a door, slightly ajar, reveals a bathroom in the other corner.

"This is…I can't…," I don't even know what to say. All I know is my skin is buzzing, my heart pounding. I picture leaving my shoes next to his chair, and my toothbrush in his bathroom.

Jasper sidles up behind me, peeling my tee over my head. "This is…what?" he asks of my unfinished statement.

He pulls me close, my back colliding with his bare chest.

"This is – incredible. I can't believe how lucky I am to be here with you."

Agile fingers circle around me, loosening my belt and unbuttoning my jeans. He's not wasting a second. Lowering my denim and boxers, he opens his mouth against my back, neck and shoulder.

"Your drivin' me crazy Edward." He whispers against my shoulder.

He sucks and nibbles the skin right underneath my ear, distracting me enough that I'm startled when he grasps my cock. His other hand fills with my sac, fondling and cradling it, while he jacks me slowly. "You're wrong. I'm the one who's lucky."

I'm hard...so hard, and he's stroking me, oh…_so good_. My senses are on hyper-active overload; my emotions - stripped bare. I'm in his house, in his bedroom, where he sleeps, where he's fantasized about me…

He's kissing me, touching me…and if I have my way, he'll be making love to me.

Removing the remainder of my clothing, I turn, watching hungrily while he disrobes. His gaze never falters from mine when he kicks his jeans to the side. He stands before me—exceptional beauty, unashamed and fully aroused.

Swiping his fingertips across my leaking dick, he captures the cum that dangles from the tip. "We can't be wastin' any of this, now can we?" he says licking my essence from his fingers. "Have you ever tasted yourself?" he asks, softly.

His velvety tenor is hypnotizing, and I can only stare, shaking my head from side to side.

"No?" He presses two fingers against my lips. "Suck," he commands.

I do as I'm told, slurping on his fingers, tasting my flavor on his skin. I can't tear my eyes from his, while he watches what I'm doing. His stare flickers up, and stays – blatant desire stirring thickly between us. A keening whimper emanates from his chest, and I suck harder needing to hear the primitive sound again.

But even better, one fluid motion and I find myself flat on my back, trapped underneath Jasper's strong frame. He licks and sucks at my lips until I find the wherewithal to open them. Instantly, his tongue fills my mouth and tangles with mine.

What seems like minutes later, I pull away, frantic for air. Feeling close to fainting from the heat our bodies are creating - the scorching desire, and the enormity of the entire situation…I gasp the oxygen necessary for continued consciousness.

Unfazed, Jasper looms over me, biting and licking my jaw, tracing down the column of neck. I tilt my head, providing him additional access, while burying my face in a soft, crisp pillow. The coolness of the fabric offers a slight reprieve from the hellacious firestorm we're generating.

I can't take any more.

"Jasper…Jasper?" I pant, cutting off his access to my neck and lifting his head by the only means at my disposal, grabbing a fistful of hair - and pulling. Once his questioning eyes meet mine, I make my demand – or entreaty.

"Please don't make me wait anymore. Make love to me."

This isn't _all_ about lust.

It's true. I'm dying for his touch, and I get incredibly hard merely thinking about his body – his beauty, his mouthwatering collarbone, his sinewy muscle, that chiseled "v", his thick cock. There's no doubt that I want to ravage it all, but this joining means more than that. It's about being with the man who holds my heart in his hands, in the basest way. I want to share, experience, and celebrate everything with him.

This is a void I'm terrified only Jasper can fill.

He wavers only for a moment, before capitulating.

"Are you sure, darlin'?" His expression is a mishmash of hope, worry, and joy.

I'm giddy with excitement, and can't help but snicker at his nervousness. His brow furrows, but he lets go of any trepidation, joining in my amusement. Our foreheads meet and our noses brush, smiles embedded in both of our faces.

After some time, his merriment fades, his expression becoming serious again. "Edward, it's…I'm gonna hurt you," he states, regrettably.

I brace his face in between my palms. "I know…and I can't wait," I say, smiling. "I'm not scared," I whisper.

Our lips fuse, and it's breathtakingly gentle. He lays on his side, his fingertips trailing lightly over my face, grazing my chest and stomach, gliding over my erection before fisting the length. He pumps my shaft, evoking moans, pleas, and soft cries that reverberate throughout the room.

Kissing down my chest, he circles my nipples with his tongue, flicking and sucking the hardened nubs into his mouth. I squirm from the intense pleasure his mouth and hand provide. His lips travel down the planes of my stomach, swirling and lapping every inch – sucking on each protruding hipbone. He moves between my legs, lying with his face directly over my pulsing cock. He skims his nose along the silken skin, breathing deeply.

"I love your smell," he murmurs.

"Jasper…please."

My hips shift on their own accord, pressing my dick against his teasing mouth. He smirks, knowingly, grabbing the base of my shaft and lifting it to his open lips. I watch his tongue twist along the crown before his soft, pink lips curl around my skin, sliding down my length, then back up – leaving a slick trail of wetness behind. He rocks a scandalous tempo, his head bobbing, while his hand caresses the underside of my ball sac.

It seems like only seconds later, but when a slippery finger locates my hole, I'm screaming for him to stop.

"Jasper…please. I don't want to cum like this," I beg.

He sits back on his heels, studying the situation, while he idly strokes me.

"Have you ever…y'know…touched yourself…?"

I nod, aware of what he's trying to ask. It's embarrassing for sure, but I figure honesty is the best policy at the moment.

"I've been experimenting. I've only got in…uh, two fingers, before I…um, cum." I finish, lamely.

"Okay…that's good. That makes me happy, darlin'. I was pretty sure you were gonna tell me you'd done no such thing." He appears to be genuinely relieved.

"I always imagine it's you when I do," I admit, shyly.

He chuckles, grasping his own shaft, giving it a few solid pumps.

"Well, I'm a lot bigger than two fingers Edward, so we're going to work on stretching you some, okay?"

I nod, fully trusting him with my body.

He stretches across the bed to gather the necessary supplies from his nightstand. He lubes his fingers generously, warming the liquid in his hand before rubbing it along my entire crack. He holds the bottle high, squirting a little extra on my cock, and winking at me when my dick jumps in anticipation.

Tender kisses serve to sidetrack me while the first two fingers enter me with little consequence, but when I'm ready for the third, the burning invasion I'd experienced in the beginning of my experimentation comes back in full force. I stiffen under the severe pressure, feeling like I'm being tore open.

_Jesus, how is he going to fit his cock in there?_

Jasper finally pushes three fingers all the way in. He wiggles infinitesimally, helping me stretch while he waits patiently for me to acclimate to the intrusion.

"Breathe, Edward," he instructs quietly. It hurts, but I focus on him…

He grounds me. Jasper's my center…my strength.

My body reacts by gradually relaxing – muscle-by-muscle – and he notices. "You're doin' fantastic," he breathes. His gaze wanders over me – my body in full sheen under the strain. "You're amazin', Edward." His emotion-filled eyes confirm the truth of his words.

And just like that, a sensation blooms deep inside me that infiltrates and destroys any lingering unpleasantness. It's like I've turned a dark, dismal corner, to be met with sun, green pastures scattered with large daisies, and…_Jasper_.

I stare deeply into his blue depths.

_Do you see it, Jasper? _

_I love you_.

He resumes stroking my shaft, but my erection had withered down to a semi from the stress of stretching my ass, and I wonder if I should have come down his throat when I'd had the chance. Then, he changes the position of his fingers, hitting a spot that sends a different kind of burn spiraling throughout my body.

"Ahhhh, God," I moan, pushing back into his fingers, urging them to repeat the magical gesture. I'd tapped the area once or twice during my own times of exploration but never had it felt so sinfully divine.

He slowly thrusts in and out, pressing deeply and stretching me.

My body overflows with an indomitable demand I haven't been able to conquer yet, but Jasper is a master – exceptionally talented. He meets the crisis with ease, manipulating the demand to bow to its aggressor's prowess; not by subsiding, but blooming into one of hopeful, keening bliss. A promise of righteous ecstasy.

"Jas, I'm ready, baby," I breathe out. His fingers remain inside me, while he leans over my body, kissing me hungrily. Insistent hips push into my side, showing me how ready he is, too.

He sits up quickly, reaching for a condom in his bedside table. He watches me closely while he sheathes himself, soaking the rubber with lube.

He spreads my legs wide, pushing them up toward my face.

"Hold onto your knees, darlin'," he instructs, huskily. I do as he says, leaving me in the most vulnerable position of my life. He sits back on his heels, and just stares.

"God, Edward…so gorgeous. I want you. So fuckin' much." He scoots closer, lining himself up. Rubbing my calf with his free hand, his eyes dart from the task at hand to my eyes. "You gotta tell me…"

I simply nod once, but the motion is filled with admiration and awe.

_I love you._

The lube supplies the slickness desirable to get the crown of Jasper's cock in, but taut muscle prevents a smooth entry. His hands secure my hips, his thumbs sinking into the hollow of my hip joints, stabilizing me for deeper penetration. He pauses to breathe for a moment before he jerks his hips forward, overcoming the obstacle. Pain strikes hard and fast, my body freezing along with Jasper's. He's breathing heavy; I'm not breathing at all.

"Breathe darlin'. Try to relax," he encourages, massaging the inside of my thighs in a soothing pattern, but it's no immediate consolation to my mutilated ass.

Over the next several moments, the instantaneous burn and sting that radiated at his entry, slowly ebbs. I do as he bids – breathing, trying to relax while my body adjusts around his length. I'm not sure if I'm ready for him to move yet, but I start to unwind, beginning with my core and spreading out through my limbs, which assists in alleviating the pain.

I finally open my eyes to tell him, but I'm speechless when I find his eyes pinched shut, his head thrown back, and his jaw clenched tightly shut. His body is quivering…literally shaking, and I realize how staying idle, waiting for me to adapt, tortures him.

_I love you._

"And you say I'm exquisite...," I manage to grit out. His eyes pop open, and he stares down at me – so much going on in that expression that I don't even know where to begin defining it. Insurmountable tension and restraint cause his body's rigidness, his thick veins protruding, thumping violently under slick, tanned skin. "I've got nothing on you."

He attempts to smile, but it doesn't work. I'd rather show Jasper that I'm ready rather than verbalize it, so I study him while I move minutely. I feel his dick twitch inside me, and he moans, lithe muscles rippling while his control is brutally tested.

I stir more, causing Jasper to groan, and his hips to fall into a short, slow rhythm. He places his hands under my calves, holding them up, allowing me to release my knees and stretch one of my arms lazily over my head, and the other hand to grasp my dick.

His shallow movements rapidly become longer and quicker. He's going at a steady pace, switching his attention between watching me and being entranced by his dick gliding in and out of my hole. I wish I could see it too, but the feeling of Jasper filling me is like nothing I could have ever imagined, and I'm glad that I'm able to experience this without a visual to cloud the sensations.

The heat is deliciously intense; the pressure is everywhere.

Everything changes when he twists his hips, focusing his efforts in a different direction. I cry out from the intensity that seems to multiply with each thrust. I grope at my hair, the pillow, the sheets…anything I can get my hands on, knowing I'm teetering on the edge of the something wonderfully sublime.

He's moving oh so fast now, his hand on my cock, and I lose all train of thought.

All I can do is feel. My balls draw up, the tingling in the pit of my stomach coursing it's way throughout the rest of my body.

Jasper is right there with me.

Beautifully salacious words are accented with grunts and guttural moans.

"I-I can't hang on…so tight…so perfect. God, please…"

His hand blurs over my dick, but it's like I'm frozen in time, watching Jasper's eyes widen before they pinch shut. His body stiffens and he cries out my name.

He throbs and pulses inside of me, triggering my own blinding orgasm.

The endless spasms finally subside, leaving me weak and tired, but elated and in love.

Jasper falls on top of me; his mouth is open, taking deep gusts of air into his lungs.

"I love you."

His eyes snap open, and he blanches.

Looking ill, he scrambles off the bed. "You need to get cleaned up," he mutters, walking stiffly to the bathroom, eyes downcast, his lips set in a thin, grim line.

Well, this isn't exactly how I'd envisioned him reacting after I'd admitted my feelings, but what choice do I have but to just go with it, and hope for the best?

Returning with a warm washcloth, he spends ample time carefully and meticulously wiping me down, his eyes follow his every movement – dire is his concentration.

Once done, he doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. He looks everywhere but where I am. And like his eyes, his hands also fidget, the meaning devastatingly clear.

I've made him uncomfortable – in his own home – in his own bed.

"Do you want me to go?" I whisper, when it's really the last thing in the world I want to do.

His blue eyes pierce mine. He decides not to answer my question, but instead ask one of his own. "Why did you say that?" he probes, breathlessly.

I never waver, peering straight into his eyes…wanting him to see the truth. "Because I meant it. It wasn't a 'heat of the moment' thing, Jas. I've wanted to tell you for some time," I clarify.

He gazes out one of the windows overlooking his backyard, lost in troubling thoughts. His expression is tattling – serious and despondent, it says.

"I don't expect you to say it back. It's just how I feel. _I love you_." It's liberating to say the words that appear to stifle him, so my emotions conflict, warring with both joy and desolation.

"Don't say that," He growls, standing up, pacing back and forth.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin…"

He stops in front of me. "It's not fair, Edward – _it's not fair_ – to say it when you have no intention of stayin' with me." His voice rises near the end.

"You're right. I'm sorry," I apologize, attempting to bypass an imminent, and abrupt termination of this night, and our brief romance.

He leans over the bed, cupping my face. "I thought we were just going to enjoy this time together without puttin' names and feelings to it."

"Okay. I-I just…can I stay tonight?" Knowing the best possible resolution is to drop the subject altogether.

He doesn't answer with words. Climbing back into bed, he sorts the blankets that lay in disarray, adjusting them, then covering us both. We automatically gravitate toward one another, and there's a long pause, followed by a deep sigh, from the man in my arms.

"Thank you, darlin'…for tonight. You were…it was…" He doesn't complete his sentence, but the insistent grip that he has on me says everything I need to know.

"I know."

I don't sleep much while my mind spins. I count the weeks I have remaining in Bon Terre over and over again, thinking I have it wrong.

_How can I only have four weeks left?_

How the hell am I going to be able to leave him? _We can work something out. _

My heart depends upon it.

XXXXX

Stay _Still by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

_The town is small, and gossip's leaked that Tony is not only a prime suspect in the serial case, but that he's been attempting to locate a young man, five years his junior, to corroborate his alibi._

_Ignorance spreads like a disease, and the community's turned against Tony overnight, ostracizing him for his homosexuality, and labeling him a killer before any real evidence has been revealed._

_Jeremy sees Tony and Maria in the local grocer, trying to hold their heads up while people glare and hurl vicious slurs. It kills Jeremy to witness his friends' torment._

_Yes, he still considers Tony a friend…his best friend, but when they make eye contact, Tony looks right through him, as though he doesn't exist. Jeremy knows him too well, though, and Tony can't hide the pain in his eyes._

_If that were the case _–_ he wouldn't have been able to hide anything else from him either._

He didn't do it_. _He couldn't have_._

_Jeremy knows it to be the truth in his gut _–_ and in his heart._

Oh God_, Jeremy thinks, _what have I done?

XXXXX

"Jas, listen to me…I'm serious. This'll work," I persuade, running the soap down his trim back.

I woke up this morning in the same position I'd been in yesterday morning – with Jasper sprawled across my chest. I hadn't waited for him to wake up this time. _Nuh-uh_, instead I rolled his ass over and swallowed his big dick – _and_ all of his cum – for the very first time.

I'd resisted the urge to pat myself on the back right there in front of a tired, sexy, spent Jasper, but I did a mental happy dance. My skills seem to improve with each and every encounter.

I wanted to have sex again, but he said I'd be too sore. I'd tried to disagree, but he told me to go take care of my morning duties, and then we'd see. Rising from the bed I'd felt a twinge, and I'd barely taken two steps before I felt the ache, and another two before I felt the throb. When I heard him chuckle behind me, I realized that he'd known this epiphany would occur. I flipped him the bird over my shoulder, and he just laughed harder.

By the time I brushed my teeth and took a piss, I had to admit he was right. Even performing simple operations, like bending over the sink to rinse my mouth, caused pain.

But hell, I still felt magnificent!

"I _am_ listenin' Edward. I told ya, I'm just a little skeptical of long distance relationships." While Jasper pivots to rinse his back he steals the soap from my hands, and slides it along my chest, rubbing it in and creating lather.

He glances up and it's enough to see the spark in his eyes. He's listening…and there's hope.

I'd analyzed the situation well into the wee hours of the morning, contemplating our circumstances, and looking for a feasible compromise. I know, with a little effort, and patience on both our parts, we can make this work.

"I'd be here _all_ summer. We also get a winter and spring break at school. You can come visit me for a couple of weeks here and there, too, and there are weekends... We'd barely go a month or so without seeing each other."

A month still seems like a really long time, but I'm not planning to advertise that point when I'm trying to plead my case.

"I don't know Edward. I just…I don't want either of us to get hurt, is all. It's gonna be hard enough with you leavin' now." He winces, and I know the feeling.

"It'll be worth the risk. I promise you, Jas. Just th-think about it," I stutter, when he slides his soapy hand over my dick.

"Alright, well, while I'm thinkin' on that, let me give _you_ something to think about."

I relent…for now, but it's not like I have an alternative when he drops to his knees, returning the favor.

Leaving Jasper in the morning so he can do a few chores for Rosalie before he meanders into town to finish some odd jobs; I saunter (limp, really) back to Rosalie's, on top of the freaking world. I sneak back in, not wanting Rosalie to become suspicious, slipping back to my room unnoticed. While I wait for my laptop to load, I twirl around the room, before falling back on the bed with a huge grin.

Yeah, it's a total girl move, but…so what?

I just had sex for God sakes! With a man who just so happens to be what dreams are made of, and who is also considering having a long-term relationship with me.

If that isn't something to turn into a girl over, then I just don't know what is.

_What more can I possibly ask for?_

The ding from my computer informs me that its booted up. I check my emails first – there are a couple from Alice and one from…_Robert Banner_? The name sounds familiar, but I can't place it. So, I open that one first, unable to believe what my eyes are seeing.

XXXXX

_Mr. Cullen:_

_Thank you for taking the time to send in your application and resume to Stevenson Elementary School for the Musical Arts teacher position. We've just been advised that our current teacher will not be returning for the 2012 school year._

_I am proud to say that Stevenson Elementary is a premier educational establishment. It's the most sought after private school with the longest running waiting list in the history of Chicago's Northern district, and we only hire the most skilled, knowledgeable, and caring staff._

_With that being said, I'm very impressed with your qualifications, and have checked your references, as well as spoken with your current principal at Glendale High. We find you a more than suitable match for the position. I'd like to set up an appointment with the Principal at Stevenson, as soon as possible, to interview and review some of your ideas for the program we have here at Stevenson Elementary._

_Please call me at your earliest convenience._

_Robert Banner_

_Superintendent - Naperville schools_

_630-222-5551_

XXXXX

It's my dream job.

My hands are trembling, I can barely breath, and my thoughts are – _everywhere_.

I'll have to leave early…prepare for my interview, review my lesson plans. I can't bomb this interview. It's all I've ever wanted…it's time to go home.

_It's time to go home_.

I begin to forward the email to Alice, but quit the message when I realize this is news I want to share with Jasper first.

I call Mr. Banner, phone the airlines, then head out to see if Jasper's still around.

Racing downstairs, I notice him through the front window tending to the creaking swing on the porch. I pull back a moment, admiring him from afar. He's bent at the knees, concentrating on his task. He's wearing a dark t-shirt with some old jeans. His hair is tied back again, and there's substantial scruff along his jaw. He hadn't shaved today –

Because I asked him not to.

The screen door creaks alerting him to my presence, and a wide smile spreads across his face when our eyes meet.

He's working, so I don't waste too much of his time telling him my – _our_ – good news. I'm hoping that he'll recognize that this affects him, too – if…_when_ – he accepts my proposition.

"That's awesome darlin'. It's the opportunity you've been waitin' on." He smiles, genuinely happy for me. "When do ya leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," I say, and suddenly I find myself trying really hard to stay happy.

The smile leaves his face. "So soon?"

"Well, my interview is Monday morning, so that only gives me the weekend to come up with a few sample lesson plans, and some ideas to present. But I'm coming right back Jas…to finish out my time here. I'll only be gone a couple of days."

"Oh, okay." He seems satisfied with this information, which causes my happiness to return.

"We'll have to celebrate tonight. Let me take you out to dinner."

"Can we try the seafood place on the pier - then maybe we can go back to your place…" _for sex_… I finish silently. I won't see him for days, so I'm not going to allow a little soreness stop me from making love to him again before I leave.

"Whatever you want darlin'." I scan the area, and because there isn't anyone around, and I'm becoming a little braver, I give him a quick kiss.

It's well worth the risk, watching his eyes light up and his smile become brighter.

XXXXX

Rosalie is perched at the dining room table, peeling potatoes for a delectable potato salad she'll be serving with lunch. Emmett's been backed up at the shop and working long hours, so I keep her company, advising her that I'll be leaving for a few days for the job interview of my lifetime.

It's hard to say, but she seems genuinely happy for me. She's been looking a little haggard lately, and I worry that she may be coming down with something. I just hope that I'm not in any way contributing to her glumness.

Back in my room, I emailed Alice, packed a bag, and went through the lesson plans I had available on my hard drive, deciding which ones I should present to the principal at Stevenson Elementary. Most of the plans have to be completely altered to accommodate the big differences in age and life experience.

Most teenagers that attend my class have already had some level of knowledge with certain instruments, and they always gravitate toward those that are familiar to them. Young students don't usually have preferences, though, and are more open-minded to try new things.

I can't wait. This is exactly what I'd been hoping for.

I almost have my man, now I'm going to have my dream job.

There's a constant niggling in the back of my mind that persists all day long. It doesn't come into focus until I'm in the shower, readying myself for our celebratory dinner, and it hits me like a ton of bricks – this job will make it a harder for Jasper and I.

I'll definitely be more established in Chicago now, and I'd never ask Jasper to move. He belongs in Bon Terre.

_How long can we survive with that type of relationship?_

I shiver under the steaming water – the somber thought making my blood run ice cold.

XXXXX

I try not to spoil our supper with my melancholy attitude.

Similar ideas that had sprouted while I'd been in the shower are taking root, obliterating my happiness. I'm already dreading being deprived of Jasper for a couple of days, how am I going to survive months at a time without seeing him?

Jasper's fear that either of us could get hurt if we tried to have a relationship that ended up failing is becoming more real to me, and I'm wondering if my bright idea wasn't such a good one after all.

Maybe we'd be better to sever this affair at the end of the summer.

I'll still have four weeks with him. I'd make every day count, and try to be satisfied with the amazing memories we created. I wouldn't have to tell my family right away. I could put it off a little longer – getting settled into my new job first.

"What's goin' on in that pretty little head of yours, darlin'? You've hardly touched your meal, and now you're startin' to shake."

I drop my hands to my lap, hiding the trembling underneath the tabletop. Jasper's eyes are concerned, and he doesn't deserve this.

"I'm sorry, Jas. I'm thinking about my interview on Monday. It's huge for me."

"You're worryin' for nothin', Edward. They'd be fools not to see what you can offer them and those kids."

_God, but I do love him_.

After dinner Jasper wants to take a quick stroll down the pier. We'd walked the short distance from the inn to the restaurant, so I'm not sure why he feels the need to enjoy the weather from the dock, when we'd be walking home. Truthfully, I'd rather just go back to his place, spread some blankets out, and cuddle up in front of the fire. But, it's a gorgeous, cloudless night with millions of stars over the water, so I follow him.

The pier is quiet, though several people are walking along it enjoying the warm, summer night. Jasper stops at the edge of the boardwalk, looking out into the water, glistening from the moonlight. "I wanted to talk to you about what you mentioned earlier."

My heart beats wildly in my chest, and every ounce of misgivings I'd had fly out the window.

_Please say you'll try._

Worries be damned. If he's willing to try, I'll do anything to make it work. It'll be hard, but we can do it, because I don't know if anything in my life will ever be worthwhile again without Jasper being a part of it.

He grabs my hands and I let him, but it doesn't escape my notice that there are numerous people around, and I try to quell the feeling that everyone is staring at us, or identifying me.

"Hey guys, what're you doin' here?"

And it's my worst nightmare, hearing Emmett's voice behind me. I pull my hand back from Jasper's with a little too much haste for him not to take note of it, and I mentally scold my inability to be subtle in this particular situation – but what's done is done.

I school my features so when I turn around I don't look guilty as hell, but it's all for naught, because there's nothing that could have prepared me for what awaits me.

"Hello, _chéri." _

"What are you doin' here, Jacob?" Jasper asks, tightly.

"Emmett just delivered some parts for my truck, and I thought I'd recognized you down here. I see you've brought your _boyfriend_."

"What're you talkin' about Jake? Edward's a guest at the inn," Emmett explains.

"Am I mistaken, _Eduard_?" Jacob asks, putting me in a horrible spot.

"We're not boyfriends." It's forced, and doesn't feel right…at all.

"You aren't seeing each other?" This time Jacob looks at Jasper. I hazard a glance just in time to see Jasper's devastated expression, before it becomes a mask of disillusion and repulsion.

I just blew it.

I blew any chance I'd ever had with him.

I want to take back my lie, but my voice has fled the scene, and so I stand there mute, utterly fucking useless, while I lose the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"If he says they're not seein' each other than they're not," Emmett demands, angrily. "What's goin' on here?"

"Nothin'…absolutely nothin' is goin' on here," Jasper says, already halfway down the boardwalk.

Like my voice, my legs seem to be incapacitated, up until Jacob's sickening chuckle restores my physical functionality. At that point nothing matters, except catching up to Jasper and explaining my predicament to the best of my ability.

"Jasper, wait," I call out, running after him. He's almost back to the restaurant by the time I finally catch up to him. I grapple for his shirtsleeve, but it's his turn to act like he's been burned.

_Except he has been burned_.

By Alec, and now by me.

How could I have been so insensitive, remembering his past love? Why couldn't I have explained why it's so important for me to tell my family first?

"Jasper, I'm sorry…you don't understand."

I can see he's holding onto a very thin thread - his body is quavering with emotion. "No, I _do_ understand Edward. I've known people like you. You're gonna make some guy real unhappy if you can't learn to face people with your true self. "

"That's not it, Jas. I want to tell everyone…"

He snorts, "Are you kidding me? I've heard all this before, Edward."

"I just want to tell my family first, then I'll tell anyone you…"

He comes to a crashing stop, and swivels around. "Fuck you, Edward. I'm not goin' back there. I let you in – I knew it'd be a mistake. But I couldn't stop it from happenin'."

"I'm not like him!" I yell.

Jasper's eyes widen in disbelief. "Like who?" he asks, venomously.

"I'm not like Alec." I spit his ex-lover's name.

He's visibly taken aback. "You know about Alec? You knew about Alec…yet – you…" He begins walking backward, pulling further and further away from me, physically and mentally.

"I'm not him," I plead.

"Like hell you're not. You're exactly like him."

He turns, intending to flee, but I make one last ditch effort to stop him, but he wrestles free. "Go home, Edward, and stay home."

The look of pure hatred on his face stuns me, and I'm left watching his retreating form disappear into the distance. Passersby watch in fascination and concern, but I pay them no mind.

_What have I done?_

I just lost the love of a lifetime – that's what I've done.

_How could I have fucked this up so thoroughly?_

I don't even know how long I stand there – minutes, hours?

Slowly, I begin to move, forcing my legs to take steps back to the inn. I walk along the winding road, in state of shock.

_What the hell happened_?

I think back, going over each aspect of the evening in great detail, wondering how something so wonderful had turned out so horribly wrong.

Had it been a coincidence that Jacob and Emmett were on the pier at the same time as us? Why would Jacob mention a relationship between Jasper and I when what happens on the island - stays on the island?

Seth.

I'd told Seth that I'd been keeping our relationship a secret until I informed my family. I confided in him.

He told that asshole. I thought Seth was my friend.

I finally crash. Bending at the waist, I puke my guts up on the side of the road, while massive sobs rack my body.

I'm still hunkered over when I hear the ominous sound.

A sound that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

I'm careful to move slowly, but I lift my head, and gasp.

Two wolves – they're identical in appearance, and most likely from the same litter.

_Ain't this a night for surprises_, I think wryly.

Two wolves had left the safety of the forest and were mere feet away from me.

One looks skittish, not thrilled with the idea of being out in the open. It doesn't want anything to do with me, but the other one…the other one wants to rip my throat out.

Barring its fangs, it snarls, inching ever closer, and it's not until it's practically atop me that I really get a good look at the feral beast.

I'm arrested by the depth in the hound's vivid, pale - _yellow_ eyes. Yellow...

I have no idea why I just stand there and stare, why I don't try run or protect myself.

I definitely can't fathom why I drop to my knees in front of the violently, furious beast…

Maybe I have a death wish…_I don't know_.

I'm sure if I'd given it more thought I could have thought of a better way to die besides being mauled by a rabid animal, but I possessed no logic, only thinking with my heart.

My heart is what drives me to look square into those angry, yellow eyes.

And it's my heart that finally breaks, forcing the words from my chest in a gut-wrenching sob.

"Tell him I'm sorry."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, a little heartfail here. Same drill: Review = Sneak peak (If you'd prefer not to have the teaser just let me know and I won't include it)<strong>

**Would love, love, LOVE to hear what you have to say about this chapter.**


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks again to **Leckadams** who purchased this story for a very good cause.

I have finals next week, so the next chapter is gonna be a little late. Only 3 chapters left!

Beta's…what can you say about them? They spend hours fixing our shit – correcting words, revising punctuation – rephrasing when necessary – they tell you to use "is" instead of "was" – because 'baby this story is in present tense' and after they delete all my "that", "and" and "as"'s they deliver something worth reading. And they do it for what? Free. Most of these girls/boys have jobs, kids and/or school, yet they take time to read through our mess, edit and give us insight, for some very heartfelt thanks and a meager display of recognition before every chapter.

If you have a beta, give him/her a big cyber-kiss today.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY **Layne Faire**! Have fun celebrating your day tomorrow. And remember, I don't just love you on your birthday – I love you hard - all year long baby.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p>"<em>Tell him I'm sorry."<em>

**Chapter 12**

"Please…"

I search for familiarity in those ferocious eyes, recognition – and _her forgiveness_.

I've no idea if my theory is correct, but I have to start somewhere, and if I'm going crazy – than I guess I'm better off dead.

The timid wolf nips at the tail of the aggressive one, gaining her attention, but only for a split second.

Growling at her sister, she turns back to me in what feels like slow motion. Her gaze is no less dangerous, but she backs up a step, granting me the opportunity to suck in a breath of much needed oxygen.

Once I think I'm in the clear, she opens her mouth, barring her fangs, before snapping her jaw shut – chopping at the air with a brutal force that lifts her front legs from the ground – demonstrating a powerfully lethal bite.

It's a warning that's completely understood.

Two more steps backward, then they both tear off into the woods. Slashing through trees, they yelp with a sorrow that slays me where I kneel – a desolate howling that echoes the pain in my heart.

I blindly make my way back to the inn, vision distorted from tears, shock and utter disbelief. Surprisingly, my emotions aren't a result from what just happened – the wolves make more sense to my muddled mind than my ridiculously continual, selfish neglect of Jasper's feelings.

_How hard would it have been to just tell Emmett the truth? Better yet, why hadn't Jasper and I had this conversation yet?_

I think back to all of the wasted openings – chances I'd given up in lieu of a kiss, or a touch. I'd been trying to get Jasper to agree to a relationship with me – a real one, so how was I supposed to fit "Oh yeah, but it has to be a secret until I decide to tell my family" in the conversation?

However, I'm sure if I'd taken the time to explain my objectives to Jasper, before I'd spurned him in front of his friends and family, he probably would've been more receptive to my needs. We may have even come to a compromise. But, just like everything else in my life – I'd gone about it all the wrong way.

It's eerily quiet at the inn – par for the evening. Several guests had arrived last night, so I would've normally expected chatter and laughter aplenty. But I'm thankful for the silence, knowing my inadequate social skills wouldn't have held up if I'd been forced to converse under the circumstances.

Walking in, I see Emmett sitting at the head of the dining room table – alone. He jumps up, like I'd just pulled him out of some sort of trance. "Edward!" He scans me from head to toe. "What happened to you?"

My impassive gaze falls, noticing for the first time that my clothes are in complete disarray, evidence of vomit splatter on my shirt, and the knees of my jeans are covered in dirt.

"Wolves," I mutter, and before he can comment on that, "Uh, where is everyone?"

"Drive in…Shakespeare – or some shit." He shrugs. "Did you say 'wolves'?"

I shake my head – not going there now - if ever. "Where's Rosalie?" His expression changes from confusion to somber in a heartbeat.

"I sent Rosie to go check on Jasper. He didn't look so good. I didn't tell her nothin', but he's probably givin' her an earful right now."

I nod slowly, shuffling my feet. I feel as if I owe him some sort of explanation of what occurred on the pier, but I'm grasping for words that aren't there.

"I don't need to know what's goin' on, Edward. But, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll all work itself out. Jasper…he can be kinda moody…y'know?"

"It's not his fault," I whisper vehemently.

Emmett opens his mouth to speak, but I stretch a pleading hand out – beseeching him to stop attempting to make this right.

Nothing is all right.

"I'm just going to…" I point to the stairs, not trusting my voice to stay even any longer.

Bounding up to the second floor, I sprint to my room, locking the door behind me.

I plop into the desk chair, slumping, while fingers force themselves through disheveled hair – pulling, bitter words that threaten to cause my head to explode.

_Go home, Edward, and stay home_.

Did he mean it? Does he really never want to see me again?

Is our relationship irreparable?

A thought I'd normally ignore intrudes, but this time it's a welcome salve.

If this misunderstanding could be remedied – would it matter? If I could possibly fix this fiasco, would the long distance between us be too much strain for such a fragile relationship?

Then isn't this really for the best? Yes, we both got hurt – terribly so. I've no doubt it will sting for some time, but wouldn't the pain be much worse breaking it off a couple of months down the road, or a year from now, when it proved to be too difficult to maintain.

It would've been too hard to keep up a long distance relationship, while focusing on a new job.

I pull the phone out of my pocket, idly glossing over the numbers I'd just programmed in this morning. I should at least call…not let it end the way it did.

If he answers, which I don't expect – I'd basically end up begging; pleading for his understanding and one more chance.

Maybe it'll be better if I wait a few months, let things get settled back home, let the haze of Bon Terre clear. Then, I could send a letter…

I'd ask nothing of him but forgiveness, telling him how much I appreciate everything he'd done for me, how much I'll always cherish our time together, how much I…

A broken sob escapes; one that leads to another – and another.

Somehow, I stand by my theory.

I can pick up the pieces. I'll move on. Everything will be okay.

This becomes the grueling mantra that runs continuously in my mind, haunting me throughout a long, sleepless, tearful night.

XXXXX

The next morning, Rosalie studies my haggard appearance with apparent satisfaction, but doesn't comment, probably due to the room full of witnesses.

She looks no better than I. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, her face devoid of make-up, which helps display the prominent circles under her eyes.

All Rosalie's guests are gathered around the table, snacking on her scrumptious array of morning treats. Even Emmett's present, though he's usually off to work by now. I find I have no appetite while I pick apart the banana muffin I'd chosen to occupy my plate.

Throughout breakfast, everyone around the table chats cheerily. Unfortunately, I'm the topic of discussion, since they all know I'll be leaving today. They compare their previous trips to Chicago, their thoughts about being a teacher, and offer well wishes for my upcoming interview, complete with advice on how to dress and answer questions.

All the while I can only nod and supply monosyllabic answers when required, watching the seconds tick down to the time of my departure.

After calling for a cab, I step out on the back porch, needing…_something_, but there's simply nothing to be had.

_Another sign_.

Even the forces have given up on me. The backyard is full of fresh air, calm, and…_light_ – so bright in fact, that I can clearly see a path to Jasper's cabin – something I'd never seen before. It's almost as if the trees, low hanging branches, and dreariness had all parted just to provide me with a clearer view.

His truck is gone… he isn't there.

There's no way I could've said goodbye, even if I'd wanted to.

It's hard to remain stoic, telling myself it doesn't matter that'd he'd made sure he wasn't around when I left, but I give myself credit for managing it.

"Will you be comin' back?" Rosalie asks, startling me. I turn to find her arms wrapped around her waist, a deceptively passive look on her face.

"I don't know," I breathe out – cautious, not quite sure what she's been told.

Her gaze wanders over the wooded area. "I understand if you can't."

_Well, that answers that_.

She knows everything, and judging by her frosty expression, she doesn't want me to return. "If you do, you should know that Jasper won't be here."

Looking back toward his cabin, I can't help but ask. "Where's he going?"

She snorts…

And merely walks away.

She slides open the patio door, hesitating before turning to face me. "You don't have to worry none, Edward. I won't be sayin' anythin' to your sister. That's your cross to bear."

XXXXX

Stay Still_ by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

_In the wee hours of the morning, alone with a pile of boxes and his mounting frustration, Jeremy knows there has to be something he's missed._

_He pours over the evidence again – and again – and again._

_Raking his hands through his unruly waves, Jeremy recalls the tormented look of his best friend, and his vexation is forced to take a back seat, while he redoubles his efforts to prove Tony's innocence._

_Suddenly, he remembers that during the interrogation Tony had said that he found the bus pass, which linked him to the latest crime, next to his car at school. Jeremy also recalls Tony saying the principal had a video camera installed in the parking lot after some cars had been vandalized a few months back._

_Jeremy knows this is the lead that's going to break the case._

_In his haste and excitement, he doesn't waste time going back to the station to view the tapes, but watches them directly from the principal's office._

_After reviewing several hours of footage, Jeremy practically falls out of his seat._

"_Oh my God."_

_xxx_

_The building is dark and cold. The janitor allows Jeremy entry into the office. He watches and waits while the man whistles his way down a long hall, disappearing into a side corridor._

_He enters the office, immediately rifling through files, and pilfering through the trash bin for evidence._

_In his desperation, he doesn't hear someone approach him from behind until it's too late. He feels a sharp pointed object at the vein on his neck._

_Feeling the warm, moist breath of his captor, a breathy chuckle whispers the warning in a teasing tone._

"_Stay still."_

XXXXX

Its midday and Chicago's city streets are cluttered with a multitude of men and women rushing through their workday, but now - more than ever – I notice that they're careful to keep their heads down, their eyes averted.

No one makes eye contact. There are no friendly smiles for strangers.

It's the same way it's always been, so I wonder why I feel so claustrophobic all of a sudden.

It doesn't take much to crack that case. I've come back a new man, forever altered – but this city has remained the same – and always will.

The real question remains: is Chicago big enough for me now, or will I always feel this suffocated? So many options have opened for me since I last saw my home. I should be high from all the possibilities made available to me through Jasper.

I promise myself that I won't blend back into the background. I won't take up where I left off, when I last left.

I _will not_ squander the gift he gave me. I'll make him proud – even if he'll never really know.

The cab driver moves sluggishly through the traffic, slamming on his brakes every two seconds, sending my body jolting forward, time and again. My entire body aches still from being sandwiched between two large businessmen on the plane. I'd been forced to endure their glares every time I twisted and fidgeted in the narrow seat.

I've learned that it's especially difficult to sit still while turmoil and regret wreak havoc on one's system.

_I'll move on._

Unfortunately, my prediction doesn't penetrate the thick skin of fatigue and doubt. Instead, it creates a petulant skepticism showcased in the form of a disgusted snort, for which I'm forced to endure another glare.

Opening the door to my apartment, I expect to feel the sense of relief one experiences at finally being home, but find nothing but a cold chill – one not necessarily derived from the temperature. The apartment is dark and dreary compared to the vivaciousness of Rosalie's inn. There are no appetizing smells, and when I lay my keys down on the table, the simple sound reverberates throughout the vacant space, with no laughter or chatter to absorb it.

I drop my luggage on the bedroom floor, staring at the dismally barren room. It's dank and boring, but it's not until my gaze falls upon the small, twin iron bed from my youth, that I realize how alone I really am.

Not ready to call Alice, I keep myself occupied throughout the day. I'm not quite prepared for her visit and ultimately, the questions she'll ask regarding my trip. So, instead, I spend hours droning over my lesson plans – perfecting the presentation for my interview.

It's no lie that I'm desperate for this position.

They can't turn me down. It's my only lifeline. Large doses of moroseness attempt to consume me while my subconscious wallows in my current predicament.

I ignore _it_, like I ignore _him_.

I ignore him, like I ignore the quiet, and the dark.

I ignore all the questions concerning my future, and all the mistakes made in my past.

I ignore the building, creeping – _mounting_ – urge to scream my fucking lungs out.

I ignore the desire to blame, torment, and hate myself – _for what I did to him_.

How could I have done that if I loved him? And I did…_I_ _do… _so damn much.

My PowerPoint flies across the room in a satirical version of '52-pick up'. I fall to my knees, gathering the scattered papers, crinkling them in my haste to rectify my wrong.

Rectify my wrong…

_Go home, Edward, and stay home_.

That'll never happen now.

I didn't want to leave Bon Terre – _to leave_ _him_ – like that. He deserves so much more than what I'd been willing to give. Someday I hope that he'll forgive me for that, but I can't let the mistakes I made with him destroy my life. I can only learn from them, and know how to react better for the next time. Right?

_I'll be okay._

Unable to avoid my miserable circumstances any longer, I shuffle the tattered remains of my presentation into a disorganized pile, grabbing my car keys and the take-out menu for Gino's Pizzeria.

Leaving this dungeon seems like a superb idea. Plus, I haven't been behind the wheel of my Volvo in almost two months, so a drive presents the perfect escape. I'd also missed Chicago's famous pizza pies during my absence, and there was no better restaurant than Gino's to fulfill that particular hankering.

xxx

Unfortunately, the general public agrees, and I'm stuck in a twenty person line to retrieve a take-out order I'd called in on the way here.

Hanging out by the counter, two waitresses gawp in my direction, giggling. The desire to roll my eyes is almost overwhelming. I manage to curb it, but when one nudges the other one with an affirmative nod, I know I'm in trouble.

Sure enough, one sashays over. By the smile on her face I've realized too late that I'd been staring, leaving her with a false impression. She's a rather attractive brunette, with long legs, a trim waist, curvy hips, and perky breasts – I've never been more uninterested.

It seems so very transparent now – why I'd always felt uncomfortable with the attention of females, why I'd always felt sick during intimacy.

I should have been able to figure this out sooner – and _on my own_. Why did I need to hurt Jasper in order to discover who I really am?

With those thoughts in mind, my mood sours considerably by the time the pretty waitress decides to invade my personal space.

"Can I get you anything to drink while you wait for your order?" She smiles suggestively. _Is she really touching my arm right now?_

"No, thanks," I answer stiffly, shrinking away from her offending touch.

"Can I get you anything_? Anything at all_?" she asks seductively, batting her eyes, licking her lips – utilizing a full arsenal of feminine wiles.

Of course, she doesn't get the message. _That'd be too easy_.

"Nope," I reply with a decisive pop, while I eye the other side of the counter, hoping one of the pies they are boxing is mine.

"Maybe…"

"Look, I'm gay," I interrupt.

"Oh…well…" she stammers, but her words trail off. I realize I've actually said the words out loud to someone other than Jasper or Seth… and _I didn't care_.

I don't care that I'm gay. I don't care that she knows, or what she thinks of me for being gay. I don't care if anyone in the vicinity heard me say I'm gay.

With a weary heart, I grab my deep dish and bolt. In the car, I lean my head against the steering wheel, resisting the urge to bang it against the surface repeatedly.

_Baseless, stupid fears_.

I'd scared my dreams away – my heart's desire – for no apparent reason.

Angrily shifting the car into drive, I peel out onto the street. I drive past my apartment complex, past the city limits, continuing to drive until I reach a deserted park on the outskirts of my township.

The park is made up of exactly four trees, two benches, and a small play area, all situated on a perfectly manicured patch of land.

No one here craves the natural beauty of the countryside – grassy fields that go on for miles, green pastures, hundred year-old mythical trees, enigmatic bayous, and sultry islands.

No, they don't crave it…never like I do.

With autumn approaching, the temperature is steadily dropping at night. Grappling for the collar of my coat, I pull it over my neck and wrap my arms around my torso, huddling for warmth. There've been many times that I'd felt alone in this world, but never more so than at this moment.

I'm wasting my time here. I find no comfort in this poorly constructed rural reproduction – no satisfaction at all, as I search for something that just isn't here.

The magic is gone – there's no wispy wind or eerie calmness, no mysterious blonds, no happy endings.

_I'll never love like that again_.

_How do I know that?_ I argue.

I'm broken-hearted right now. The wounds are fresh, and maybe after a period of mourning I'll be able to pick up the pieces, start over with someone else – find that kind of love again.

Who am I kidding?

I'm not going to move on – because I don't want to.

I want Jasper.

xxx

Back home, I sift through my luggage, sorting baskets for laundry, when I come across the shirt I'd worn only two nights ago – the night I'd spent with Jasper – when we'd made love.

So tired of fighting a losing battle, I can't stop the recollections, even if I wanted to. I remember him removing this very shirt from my body. I remember the wonderfully erotic things he'd said, the way he felt moving inside of me.

But most of all, I remember him watching – carefully, while he prepared and entered me, the way he thrust _so_ slow and gentle – the way he took such good care of me.

I remember him pushing back my sweat-soaked hair from my face to kiss my temple after we'd finished.

_Jesus_.

He loved me.

I ball up the reminder in my hand and throw it across the room. My chest aches and I sob uncontrollably. Dropping to the floor, I weep until I'm left devoid of energy and in a catatonia of deep thoughtfulness.

How could I have fucked it up so badly that he doesn't even want to see me again? Should I go back to Bon Terre anyway? I've had to fight for Jasper from the start, so why give up now? Could I actually get him to listen… make him realize that I don't want to hide our relationship?

_I don't know_.

All I do know is that nothing – _nothing_ is okay.

And until I get Jasper back, nothing will ever be.

I've messed this up so royally that I acknowledge the need for help, and I know just the person to ask.

Basically, she's the only one I have left.

I dig my cell phone out of my jeans pocket, hitting one of the few numbers I have on speed-dial. "Alice?" My voice is clogged and rough from all the spent tears.

"_Edward? What's going on?"_ I don't know where to begin, so a few seconds lapse. _"Say something."_ Her voice rises to a high, frantic pitch.

"C-can you come over tonight? I… I need to talk to you. Please…" My voice strains, and I suppress the urge to add '_hurry_' to my plea.

"_Of course…I'll be over in about twenty minutes. Edward, are you okay?"_

"I'll be okay. I just really need to see you."

I sit at the small kitchen table, alternating between wringing my hands together and tearing a napkin into tiny fragments. Nineteen minutes later, I hear the soft knock indicating her arrival.

Swinging open the door, I scoop her up into my arms, burying my face into the crook of her neck. It's been years since we've embraced for anything other than the perfunctory hug between siblings, and it's the closest I've felt to 'home' since I've been back.

She pulls away, studying my appearance. I've no idea what I look like, but it can't be good. "Edward? You're scaring me…what's wrong?"

"Oh hell, Alice…I've so much to tell you."

"Okay…" she prompts, leading us toward the kitchen. I slouch back into the chair that I'd waited for her in, while she puts a kettle on the stove, before extracting tea bags from her purse.

She notices me watching her. "I didn't know what you'd have in your cupboards, being gone for so long."

That's just Alice, being Alice – meticulously prepared for anything, anytime, anywhere. I've never known a situation she can't master.

Sitting down, she places a steaming mug in front of me. "Okay, now tell me what's happened?" Her posture is protective, already raring to fight a battle for me, even when she has no idea the cause.

I'm ashamed. I should have known, no matter what, Alice will always be on my side. That revelation gives me the courage I need.

"I'm gay."

At first I'm not sure I'd actually spoken the words out loud, because she doesn't respond to my life-altering news. Since her face isn't giving anything away, I look for some clue to how she feels by watching the liquid swirl in her cup while she stirs it into a mini typhoon. The spoon clinks against the side of her mug, startling me from my daze.

"Oh…oh, really?" she finally says, _acting_ surprised, and doing a horrible job of it.

_Jesus._

"Why? What?" My eyes widen. _"Did you know?"_ I ask, incredulously.

"Well, no, I didn't _know_ Edward. I can't say that I'd never suspected…" She looks away, huffing. "Okay, I've suspected that you weren't into girls since college."

"Really? I… I wish I would've realized it sooner. It could've prevented… _Oh, God Alice_." Tears I didn't think I had left spill heedlessly.

"I'm sorry, I should've told you about my suspicions…"

"No!" I interrupt. I will not allow her to take blame for my own misfortunes. Everything that's happened is no one's fault but my own. "I'm not sure I would've believed you." I hesitate, attempting to take control of my quivering lip. "I… I met someone… I fell in love." I whisper, barely breathing the last word.

"You did? Tell me about him." she invites, smiling warmly.

"It's Jasper…Rosalie's brother."

She nods knowingly, "Mhmm, quite a handsome boy if I remember correctly."

"He's gorgeous…inside and out…," I admit, shyly.

She doesn't look disgusted or judgmental, so I proceed to tell her everything that happened this summer, including Sinner's Island. I leave out no details, except those concerning our sexual encounters. I explain how right it felt to be with him, but no more than that.

I decide to be completely truthful, revealing all of the doubts and uncertainties I've experienced, and how those insecurities ultimately led to the demise of our relationship.

"I fucked up, Alice. I just thought you, mom, and dad should know before the general public. But I shouldn't have denied our relationship when we were confronted. Instead I rejected him, just like his ex did. I became his worst nightmare, and I honestly don't know if I can fix it." I bury my face in my hands, scrubbing roughly. "I feel like each hour that passes, the less of a chance I have of getting him back."

Her head is bowed, absently stirring her tea. "Look, Edward, I know this is how you feel now… but maybe it's for the best. It'd be really hard to make work."

"What?" I squeak.

Alice, the romantic, is telling me to let it go… let _him_ go.

Even though those very thoughts have run through my own mind, my heart is already discarding their validity. Hearing my fears voiced from someone else makes it sound so much more ridiculous – just one more thing I failed to realize.

She shrugs, still looking at her coffee. "I mean, think about it Edward – you should see what Chicago has to offer. He was you're first… y'know… boyfriend. I don't know…it could be just a crush."

I gasp, "I can't believe you just said that." My stomach churns at her suggestion that the way I feel about Jasper is just a mere _crush_. "I love him Alice. With everything in me."

She lifts her eyes, and they're beaming with pride and mischief. "Then fight for him Edward. Everything else is inconsequential."

"Oh my God, you're totally screwing with me."

She laughs, "I'm so happy to have my brother back, and not just the shell of what he used to be. I knew Louisiana would do the trick."

"I owe you my life for that."

"Just get your man and we'll call it square," she proposes.

"It's going to take something drastic…and I think I know what I need to do." I smile genuinely for the first time all day.

We hug and cry…

…_and plan_.

XXXXX

The job interview of my life is tomorrow, and I take careful measures to select the correct outfit for the occasion, making sure it's pressed and spotless.

I'd gone through the motions, waiting for the interview to arrive – needing to be done with it, so I can get back to Jasper. I feel like it's been forever since I've last seen him, and I miss him so damn much. I'm hoping that with the time that's passed, he's chosen to reflect on our better times, and not dug in his heels, instead. Otherwise, I'll have my work cut out for me… not that I don't deserve it.

Countless arrangements and hours of hard work have formed the plans to just allow me the opportunity to win Jasper back. I'll know soon enough if my labors have been worthwhile.

It's been difficult to sit back and wait. I ran numerous errands, and worked on this damned presentation in every second of my spare time, perfecting every nuance – I've crossed all of my t's and dotted all of my i's – I've filled in every gap and left no avenue unturned. I've left them no choice but to offer me the job.

_I'm fighting for my_ _life_.

I've also made the dreaded call to my parents. I'd waited until the last minute, only ending the call about an hour ago.

Unlike Alice, they'd harbored no such suspicions of my orientation prior to my call. Even though they both stated they were cool with it, I have my doubts. The mood had definitely shifted after I'd told them about Jasper, but I'm confident they just need time to let it sink in and adjust.

I'll see them over the holidays, so I'll be able to better evaluate the situation between us then. If all goes well, maybe Jasper will accompany me.

I go to sleep hopeful of what's to come.

XXXXX

Alice and I eat a late lunch before the interview. "I shouldn't have ate – I'm gonna throw up." I say, clutching onto my stomach.

"Stop, you're wrinkling your suit," she declares, pulling my arms away. "Don't worry, you're going to knock them dead."

She straightens my tie, then fixes the collar of my suit jacket. I allow her to tend to me until she spits in her hand, before reaching for my hair.

That's where I draw the line. I duck and run.

Walking up steps leading to the entrance of the school I peer out into the schoolyard at the large playground where the kids spend their recess, and my confidence builds – this is where I'm meant to be.

"Mr. Cullen?" an older woman asks, marching down the long corridor to stop directly in front of me.

"Yes. Principal Cope?" I inquire in return, extending my hand in greeting. She's a sturdy woman, with a strong firm shake. I notice that she skims over my appearance, seemingly satisfied, and I send a quiet "thank you" to Alice.

"Yes. Thanks for coming so late in the afternoon. May I call you Edward?" she asks, leading me down the hall to a large conference room.

"Of course, Principal Cope," I reply, happily.

"You can call me Shelly. I'm not formal with my team." She already sees me as a part of her team. That has to be good.. right?

"Can I get you some coffee or tea?" she offers.

"No. I'm fine, but thank you, Shelly."

"Great. It's been an incredibly long day, so let's just get down to business then, shall we?"

Principal Cope discusses what she expects from her staff, guidelines, benefits, the school itself, and the history. As she continues, the more excited I am about the job.

I follow her to the music room – hopefully my classroom – where I dive into my presentation, including a sampling of my skills on several of the instruments.

"Well, Edward, what can I say? Your resume is impeccable, your qualifications and abilities are transcendent, and your references are glowing. The proposal you've provided not only includes well thought out lesson plans, but you contained concepts for raising money for the musical department, and the school. A talent show and recital will give the children something to strive for, and to add a bake sale and silent auction during these events are brilliant, and perfect for this community."

My face heats, but I thank her earnestly.

"So, Edward, if you're still interested, I'd like to offer you the position."

"Please, I'm absolutely sure that this is the job for me. Your outline on how you'd like the music department to be run is parallel with what I've been looking for." I hesitate, taking a deep breath. "Before I can accept your offer I want to let you know that I'm gay. I know I'm not required to tell you, however I didn't want you to find out later and be surprised. My life is private, but I'm not ashamed of who I am."

I hold my breath, hoping that I just didn't lose my chance at this job.

I'll beg if I have to.

"Well, Edward, I'm sure that breaks a lot of the girls' hearts. I'll have you know that we don't support prejudice or discrimination here."

A wave of relief washes over me.

We spend the next hour mulling over the details of the offer, then schedule a short meeting for tomorrow to sign the contracts.

"I'm sorry we couldn't quite match what you were making previously, but we don't have the budget for more at the moment." My salary will be cut by a third, but working with young children will be much more satisfying, and that's what matters most.

"It's okay, Shelly. I'm just really excited to be here."

She chuckles at my unbridled enthusiasm, which is not an exaggerated by any means. then offers a hearty handshake to seal the deal.

"School starts in two weeks, but you must report to class on Monday. You'll be assigned an administrative email address, so you can be added to all the teacher's meetings next week."

Monday doesn't give me much time to prepare, but nothing is going to kill this buzz.

"We're extremely excited to have you, Edward, welcome to Bon Terre Elementary."

"Believe me Ms. Cope, there's nowhere else on Earth I would rather be."

XXXXX

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><p>AN: Note! What Ed believed about the wolves hasn't been confirmed (yet), it's just his opinion (for now). Thanks for all of the reviews and comments. They definitely provide motivation and inspiration. Sneak peaks aren't bribes - they're a big thank you! So review, and you'll get to see how Jas reacts to seeing Ed again - you might get a little surprise from it. :)<p>

Until next time! Deb xoxo


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks to **Leckadams** for purchasing this fic. We're getting there Lauren!

Sorry about the wait. I had finals, I went to Vegas, and there was an unexpected death - non-relative, but a punch in the gut so fiercely that I lost all mojo for reading, writing, or watching boy sex. I'm slowly catching back up, but this is only half the chapter I'd planned on giving you. But hey, that just means that you are getting another chapter. Yep, 3 left…I know…I said that last time, but this time I mean it.

Whenever I got downcast, I just went back through the reviews from last chapter - and it made me so happy that I was able to trick almost every single one of you with the twist at the end. Anyway, it lifted my spirits enough to get me back on track, so thanks again for all of the support.

**ANNOUNCEMENT**! My beautiful beta **Layne Faire** and I are hosting a contest. The Summer it All Began Contest. It's completely slash and completely ANONYMOUS. That's right. We've leveled the playing field. Among other prizes the winners will receive gift cards to either Target or iTunes, and the value is determined by how many submissions are received. Judging the contest is **Arcadian Maggie, MistyHaze420, HarryTwifan, Sue273**, and myself. Check out the page for all of the details! www (dot) fanfiction (dot) net (slash) thesummeritallbegan

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

I stride out of the school building on the adrenaline high of a lifetime.

_I'm moving to Bon Terre._

I'm home! Oh my God… so unbelievable.

I elect to walk to the inn instead of having Alice pick me up. I take the familiar gravel road, and though it's full daylight, I still maintain a watchful eye on the perimeter of the wooded area – but I don't expect visitors this time.

_I've come to fix this_.

After my dismal stay in Chicago and the pep talk from Alice, we'd planned this. I'd made copies of everything I intended on taking with me to my interview with Principal Uley at Stevenson Elementary and sent it via FedEx to Principal Cope.

After my interview at Stevenson, they made me an offer instantly. Although I'd have received a substantial raise, it wasn't enticing enough to accept the position straight away. I'd advised them that I needed some time to consider the offer.

I'd waited (impatiently), giving Principal Cope sufficient time (two and a half days) to review my letter and materials, before I made the call. I was sure that if Bon Terre Elementary had a music teacher, he or she hadn't been doing their job very well. I'd definitely been astonished by all the enthusiasm I'd witnessed at the music competition this summer, but the kids' talent hadn't been nurtured or developed adequately.

After speaking with Principal Cope, that theory had been confirmed. The school had only one teacher who taught both Art and Music, even though her degree focused solely on Art. Half of the semester is spent teaching the students art, the other half music. I spoke with Ms. Cope – Shelly – over the phone, in length, explaining the importance of exposure to music, and the necessity for separate music and arts programs that run yearlong.

She called back the next day to schedule the interview.

Alice and I flew in this morning, and went straight to lunch. We made a pass by Rosalie's place and I'd been ecstatic to see Jasper's truck fill the narrow passageway down by the marsh. I'd figured there'd been a good possibility that Rosalie had lied about Jasper being gone to discourage me from returning – and thankfully, that appears to be the case.

God knows I don't want to waste another second to see him – or be with him. I won't deny it – I'm worried and scared. I'm sure there'll be crying and begging involved, and the prospect of that isn't very exciting. But hopefully, there's a light at the end of this bleak tunnel, making all of the predicted turmoil worth it.

I inhale the Deep South far into my lungs – the fresh, intoxicating scent of Cardinal flowers and Great Blue Lobelias fill my nostrils. Finally, I'm able to breathe normal again.

I'd decided to try my hand at fate, let this interview decide whether Jasper and I belong together. For two weeks, I've tried to curb the desire – tamp down the slightest optimism, not wanting my hopes to surface only to be shot down by someone I didn't even know. But now that it's said and done, I can't be sure if I'd have halted my pursuit of Jasper, even if Ms. Cope hadn't given me the position. It would've been extremely difficult looking for a job in such a remote area, but I'd sweep floors if it meant I'd be closer to him.

_Sixteen days_.

It's been sixteen days since I've eaten a proper meal, had a good nights sleep… _breathed_.

My head falls back, and my hands clench into tight fists recalling the pain I've been dealing with – heartache I've barely survived, nights the world seemed to be crashing down on me – curled in a cold bed – while the walls closed in around me. Tortured by daydreams of innocent lovemaking, tender touches and sweet kisses, only to be chased by horrific nightmares of stinging accusation, unforgiveness, a cruel indictment, and a final heartbeat.

Yes, in those dreams I cease to live.

I'm ready to let all that go.

As the Louisiana sun beats down on my face, I feel a trace of vindication – a subtle victory in my return from perdition.

_Sixteen days_.

It's been two weeks and two days since I last saw Jasper.

I pray that I'm not too late to remedy this, but it makes me infinitely happier knowing I don't have time constraints. Residing in Bon Terre affords me precious time to win Jasper back. It's not a problem if I don't win him over today, or tomorrow, or even next week, because I'll be here next month and the month after.

I'll wear him down – I'll make him see that he's it for me, and I'm it for him.

Now that I've experienced life without Jasper my determination has risen tenfold, and like this interview, I'll make a case that'll give him no other alternative but to forgive me for the mess I've made. After I've managed to accomplish that feat, I'll be able to forgive myself for everything I've done to him.

"Hey Mister, I remember you. You stay at Miss Rosalie's place… right?" I'd been walking like a man on a mission, but a boy I'd guess to be around eight years old coasts next to me on his dirt bike – no doubt one of my future pupils. I slow down and give him a relaxed smile. His clothes are dirty, his shoes have holes, both knees are skinned, but he looks as happy and carefree as can be.

I know why… _I feel it too_. It's this place.

"Yep," I reply blissfully, grinning into his smudged face. He's obviously enjoying the last days of his summer freedom.

"I'm Billy, I live two doors down from you," he snorts when he laughs. "Well, Miss Rosalie's – but you prolly knew what I met."

"Yes, I did… but it's "_probably_ knew what I _meant_." Billy eyes squint, his head tilts to the side – perplexed. I shake my head, giving up on the grammar lesson. I'm not the English teacher – that'll be his or her challenge. "I'm Edward. It's a pleasure to meet you, Billy."

His smile is back. "What're you all dressed up for?" _Nosy little sucker_.

"I had a job interview."

"What do ya need a job for if you're just visitin'?" The curiosity raises his voice an octave.

"I'm moving here. In fact, I'm the new music teacher at the elementary school."

His eyes light up, and his chest puffs up proudly. "I play the piano, and my sis sings."

"I'm looking forward to hearing both of you."

"Well, we ain't none too good, but we sure like to do it. Say, do you have a place to live yet?"

"No, not yet."

Putting on the brakes a few feet in front of me, he poses motionless, maintaining a delicate balance with minimal trembling. When he finds motion again he laughs, but his expression turns matter-of-factly. "Ole Miss Josie is movin' south to live with her sister. Ma says she has a real bad heart, and's goin' there so she won't be alone for her final days." He looks sad, but there's a trace of confusion… clearly much too young and naïve to understand the intricacies of death. He shakes it off, grinning again. "Her place ain't too shabby. She keeps it up real well, and it's right in town, not too far from school."

"Thanks Billy, I'll have to check that out."

"If you want me to show ya where the place is at, maybe you can borrow one of Miss Rosalie's bikes, and I can take ya." He looks too hopeful for me to deny him.

"That sounds like a great idea," I concede. The thought of looking at houses makes my smile grow.

A large horn sounds, causing Billy to roll his eyes, "That'd be my ma. See ya later, Mister Edward."

Chuckling, I watch him speed down the road. Before disappearing down a long dirt driveway, he twists his torso, waving back at me.

I return the gesture, feeling like I've just made my first friend here.

Ten minutes later, I'm at the mouth of the long pebbled driveway that had come to be my home the last few months. Never has The Stormy Haven Inn appeared as foreboding as it does at this moment. Our rental car is parked in front, so Alice is here, like we'd planned.

Hopefully, she's buttering Rosalie up for me, but I'm not kidding myself. Alice is masterful, but she'll only be able to accomplish so much – this is all on me. It's imperative that I have Rosalie's support. When it comes time to confront Jasper, I'll need as many people in my corner as possible.

Dinnertime looms, as the smells permeating through the front screen door suggest. A thick aroma of cinnamon and basil waft onto the porch, my stomach quivering with promises of gluttonous gratification.

The hinges still creak, just like they'd done sixteen days ago when I'd walked out this door. _I guess Jasper hasn't gotten to the task yet_. The screech alerts everyone to my arrival, and several faces glance my way. I recognize the couple in the living room from my last visit, but my attention is immediately diverted to the duo in the dining room.

Alice is smiling hesitantly… Rosalie, not so much.

_Shit._

She's looking down, staring into a bowl she's mixing ingredients in.

"Hey Edward, it's nice to see you. Did you get the job?" I turn my head to address the woman who'd asked the question, Claire…I think. She's referring to the job prospect in Chicago, not my new job here in Bon Terre, but the question stuns me nonetheless.

"Umm…" _I can't do it_.

Polite conversation eludes me more than ever.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I raise a hand – an imploring gesture, hoping she'll forgive my rudeness when I simply turn in the direction of the dining room. Alice, who'd observed the scene, begins a conversation with the woman in lieu of my wretched behavior.

Rosalie's gone, but I pass the threshold into the kitchen, where I find her at the sink. She hasn't turned around, ignoring my presence, which means she'd expected me to follow her.

If she'd found me to be someone else – a courteous guest perhaps, she'd turn around, kindly excusing her barefaced negligence as preoccupation, and with her southern grace and infallible hospitality, she'd beg forgiveness, which she'd have earned within seconds of her first smile.

However, it's just me – lowly Edward. I'd witnessed her hospitality first hand, and crushed it with careless disregard.

"Rosalie, can we talk?"

"Sure Edward," she says with forced cheer. Wiping her hands on her apron, she plops down at the small kitchen table.

I slide into the chair across from her, watching her hands turn into fists. She looks up then, her tearful eyes stab me, with angry jabs. "Why'd you come back?" she accuses.

I go for it.

"I love him Rosalie. I love him with all my heart. I know I screwed up, but I'm here to fix it."

She scoffs, "Please, Edward... you don't do that to someone you _love_. It's lust – get over it and move on. There's nothing here for you anymore." Her tone is scathing.

_It's not true_. "Don't say that. I do love him – so, so much." Tears well, and I force them back, choking on their bitter taste.

"I don't believe you, but even if you do – it's too late. _Sorry_." She sounds anything but sorry; the last word spoken with such malice. But it's the words just before that cause my heart to miss a beat.

_It's too late?_

"Wh – ?" I can't bring myself to ask what's happened. Is he gone? Is he with Jacob?

Concern is written all over my face. She notices, smiling in crude satisfaction, while I stumble to ascertain whether I've made the right decision accepting the job in Bon Terre. However, I only waver for a second. This is where I'm meant to be… _with Jasper_. I'll get him back regardless of what's occurred in my absence.

Instead of addressing the issue of what Jasper's been up to, I focus on her unwillingness to believe that I love her brother. I proceed to tell her everything I'd told Alice. At first, she doesn't even look at me, but by the time I'm finished, I know she's affected. Her eyes have softened, but I can't mistake the pity filling her eyes.

"You just can't ignore what we have Rosalie – believe me, I know. I – I've tried." My watery gaze pleads for her understanding.

She sighs, "Jasper won't get over this. He's stubborn that way. Once he's got something his head, he won't change his mind. And I know for a fact – he's done with you."

"I have faith Rosalie. I know he loves me too."

"_You don't understand_. He was really hurt when Alec snubbed him in town. He didn't do it to him once Edward; he did it _all the time_. Sometimes, Alec would pretend like he didn't even exist when others were around. Jasper'd come home pissed off, yellin' up a storm. But this time, he's different. He's… quiet… too quiet. He's scarin' me." She gets up, stirring something that smells heavenly on the stove.

"Since you left I've barely seen him. When he does come around, he looks like death. He isn't sleepin', and he isn't talkin'. I tried to persuade him to visit mama, but he refuses to go. He says there's nothin' wrong, but you'd have to be a blind fool to not see he's hurtin'. I could kill you for doin' this to him, Edward."

"I'll make it up to him. I promise. He'll never doubt me again." I rise, and tentatively move closer to her. "Wh – where is he?"

She sighs deeply – and distressed. "He goes to that goddamned island every night. Most times, he doesn't even bother comin' home. Last night was no exception."

"Where's he staying?"

She turns from the stove, leaning against the counter, tiredly. "I don't know."

XXXXX

Stay Still _by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

"_Hey Vicki, I brought din…" James voice trails off when he turns on the light, and takes in the ominous scene._

_The ashen look on James' face makes it clear to Jeremy that he had no idea what his wife has been up to. Shocked doesn't even come close to his reaction, but Jeremy gives him credit for pulling it together quickly._

"_What's goin' on here, sweet?" he asks, feigning nonchalance._

"_He knows what I've done," Victoria states, menacingly, and with that, James façade crumbles._

"_Vicki…what're you sayin'?" Are you saying you killed those girls?" His eyes widen at her apparent expression. "Why… why would you do that?"_

"_You should have been the Sheriff – not this moron," Victoria heatedly exclaims, every word causing the needle to scratch at Jeremy's throat._

_James is an easygoing guy, and happy with his current position. He hasn't been in law enforcement long, and isn't looking to climb the ladder anytime soon. This is all her._

"_When he couldn't solve the case, I knew they'd be demanding his badge and that you'd finally get what you deserved. I knew I shouldn't have tried to pin the murders on that faggot, but I couldn't resist."_

"_But you killed people, Vicki – young girls."_

"_Don't ya know? I'd do anything for you baby," Victoria coos. "Why don't you look pleased?"_

"_No, no…sweetie. You've made me really happy. Thank you so much."_

_Luckily, Victoria doesn't sense the desperation in his voice. "Once he's dead they'll definitely give you his job, don't you think?" she predicts. "I could have just killed him to begin with, but the town needed to suffer. How dare those assholes overlook you?" She laughs, and the needle jabs, digging into his skin. One false move and Jeremy knows he's a dead man. "I showed them, didn't I baby?"_

"_You sure did, how about you let me have the honors this time? I'd love to take care of this one," he asks, his head inclining toward the needle._

"_No baby, not this time. See, you have to know exactly where the vein is, and it needs to go – right – here."_

_Jeremy feels a pinch, then hears a loud bang before the world goes black._

XXXXX

I stare out the window of my room, my knees drawn up to my chest, and my arms wrapped around my legs, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds, waiting hopelessly for Jasper to come back.

I won't lie, it hurts to know he's been back to the island, but I'm determined not to hold anything against him since I've been gone. I can't deny it'll be painful if he's been with others. It's only been a couple of weeks, but we all deal with grief in different ways, and I know I broke his heart, along with my own.

Regardless, I'd made the call to Stevenson High to let them know I won't be accepting their offer, but I haven't told anyone else that I'd gotten the position here. I want Jasper to be the first to know. If he gives me another chance, he'll always be the first to know.

The sky darkened some time ago, and my chances of seeing him tonight are dwindling. If he's not going to come to me, I have to find a way to get to him, and there's only one way I can think of to get me to Sinner's Island.

I just hope I'm not too late.

XXXXX

Emmett drops me off at the wharf, and I race along the pier. After fifteen minutes of scouring the entire dock, I'm ready to give up. Just as I'm about to slink away, I see my unlikely savior coming out of a cabin on one of the boats.

_Thank God._

"Jacob, you're gonna take me to the island," I demand, leaving no room for argument.

Unfortunately, he doesn't agree. In fact, he looks at me like I've got two heads. "Are you insane? Why makes you think I'd do that, _couillon_?" I have no idea what that means, but by the way he hisses the word, I'm guessing it's not a term of endearment. I ignore the attitude, keeping a level head. I need one if I'm going to convince this jackass to let me hitch a ride to the island.

"Because you care about him, and you want him to be happy. He loves me, and I love him." My attempt at appealing to his sense of compassion proves to be utterly wasteful. His scornful expression doesn't falter in the slightest.

He scoffs, "What do you know of love, pale boy? You've messed with Jasper badly. You steal his heart and then you trample on it. He doesn't need to be seeing the likes of you anymore."

Precious minutes tick away… and I feel my patience wither.

"Please. I'm begging you. If you care about Jasper at all, you'll give me this opportunity to make it better. I'll do anything for him. Can't you see that? I'm here, asking for your help."

"You'll do anything for him on the island, but not on the mainland, I hear."

_Dammit… nobody believes me_ – but why should they? Fortunately, Jasper knows better than that.

"That's not true," I defend, vehemently – angry that I have to explain myself to _Jacob_.

"He speaks of you when he's drunk. Everyone knows you're just another Alec," he reproaches.

"No! I've told my family about him, and now I want everyone else to know."

"You've told your family?" I want to smack the skepticism from his face, but I hold myself in check. _I need his help_, I remind myself.

"Yes, and some of Jasper's too. I want the whole world to know I love Jasper Hale." My voice has escalated, so while people stroll by they stare at me strangely.

"Sorry _gens_, he's over you. He's proven that." He looks disgusted, and it causes my chest to quake violently. _Jesus, what has Jasper done?_

"It doesn't matter…_please_," I whisper brokenly.

Jacob huffs, "Get in. But don't mistake my intentions – they aren't honorable. I'm only taking you so that you'll realize that he doesn't want you anymore."

XXXXX

From the wharf it only takes ten minutes to reach the island. The mood in the boat is solemn. I shut my eyes, lulled by the humid Louisiana air sifting through my hair and the low hum of the motor.

"Did you sleep with him?"

I didn't mean to ask the question, but it's killing me. I shouldn't have. I can't guarantee Jacob will answer honestly, and I've no doubt he'd lie just to hurt me.

I'll ask Jasper - eventually, when I'm ready to face whatever he's done.

Opening my eyes I find Jacob's smiling – wide and mischievous.

I can't deal anymore. Grabbing him by the shirt, I pull him into me – our faces inches from one another. "Tell me! Did you? And _don't you dare_ fucking lie to me."

He smiles again, but a flicker of emotion passes through his eyes, and his grin dies. "No," he says quietly.

It seems like the truth, but adrenaline forces me to shake him, stretching the fabric of his tee. "I said don't lie to me."

He sneers, wrenching my hands from him. "I'm not lying," he declares, smoothing out his shirt. When he looks up I see the validity in his eyes.

"He's no good to me anymore," he states, avoiding eye contact. "The night you'd left I tried luring him to the back – promising just to talk, but fortunately for me, he wanted nothing to do with conversation." He gives me a sideways smirk, then stares back out into the starry evening.

He sighs, his smile fading. "He kissed me. It was hard… ravaging - I was into it… but he wasn't. As fast as he'd pulled me to him, he'd thoroughly pushed me away. Before I could reason with him, Seth stole him away. I gave Jasper a few days, then tried to talk to him again, but Seth is always near – swooping in and hanging all over him. It's disgusting."

"Seth? And Jasper?" Flabbergasted can't even sum up my emotions.

"Jasper's been going home with him… almost every night."

"_What?" _My heart hurt. Seth? My friend? I've already deduced that he'd told Jacob that I was keeping my relationship with Jasper a secret, but I'd hoped he done it accidentally or unknowingly. I'd never suspected he told Jacob so that he could be the one to comfort Jasper when the bottom fell out.

_That bastard!_

"Did Seth know what you'd do with the information he gave you?"

"He knows me well, so I suppose."

"So you conned Seth to get info to break us up and then it backfired on you?"

"It would appear so," he agrees, testily.

"I guess it serves you right for using people."

"You can't defend every guy I've ever deceived or used, _gens_, besides I've already paid for that particular _faux pas_." He says rubbing his jaw, where I see the faint yellow mark from a diminishing bruise. I wonder how he got it – but not curious enough to ask.

I shut my eyes – attempting to calm my breathing, heartbeat, and temper.

I don't open my eyes again until I hear the sound of music.

_Please be here._

XXXXX

Jasper's here all right. He's occupying a table in the corner, facing away from the action on the dance floor. He's sitting with one other person – someone who's holding Jasper's hands atop the table. That someone is Seth.

_I'm going to kill the fucker._

And to think I considered him a friend.

Seth spots me, and his eyebrows shoot to the ceiling. He says something to Jasper, jumping up from his seat. I wonder if his sorry ass is going to make me chase him down, or if he's going to take it like a man, but he surprises me by making a beeline right for me.

"What the fuck, Seth?" I say when he's close enough to hear.

"Edward, so glad you finally decided to show up." His words are sarcastic, and his stance is aggressive. "Tell me it's not true what Jasper says. Tell me you didn't snub him like that shit of an ex did."

I can't deny it, because it's true. I open my mouth to explain, but I don't feel like wasting one more moment talking to him when Jasper is almost within my grasp.

Seth interprets my silence as an answer. "I don't believe it," he chides, appalled.

"I don't owe you anything Seth." I attempt to pass him to reach Jasper, but he grabs a hold of my arm, jerking me around, and I'm so close to taking a swing at him, but I can't afford to get kicked out.

"Ed…"

I twist away from his grip. "This would have never happened if it wasn't for you. And you did it all so you could get…"

Garrett steps in, spreading his hands across Seth's shoulders, momentarily distracting me from my rant. There's a familiarity between them that leads me to believe they've gotten _a lot_ closer.

"You're right, I made a mistake – one that will never happen again. But Like Hell you don't owe me an explanation!" Seth yells, tears swimming in his eyes.

He stabs his finger over in Jasper's direction. "When he's so fucking sloshed that he can barely walk, and picks a fight with someone twice the size of him – or an entire group – _I'm_ the one that steps in and keeps him from getting his ass kicked. And when he's so down and out that he just wants to forget for a second – lose himself in someone else – _I'm_ the one that stops him from going to the back and doing something with a fella that I know he'll regret. _I'm_ the one who takes him back to my house, because I'm afraid to let him back in his boat."

Garrett squeezes Seth's shoulder, visibly comforting him, but the wrath continues.

"You owe me a goddamn explanation because _I'm_ the one that keeps telling Jasper he's wrong, that he must have misunderstood you – that you wouldn't do that to him – that you'd fucking come back!" He has to calm himself before he can continue, "But you hadn't come back, and each day it's been harder and harder to say those things to him because I'd stopped believing them myself."

We've drawn a crowd, the patrons of the bar stop dancing and mingling. Circling us, their eager eyes and ears witness the scene with a savage hope of a brawl, or at least a good story to pass, but it means little to me when the love of my life is just a few short feet away. My determination is boundless, and nothing or no one is going to stop me from claiming the joy that's mine to have.

But I'm not so absorbed in my intent that I can't concede an explanation where it's undeniably due.

"I was wrong Seth. I thought informing my family that I'm gay before anyone else was the right thing to do, but it was stupid… _I_ was stupid. I did it… I shunned him, and the look on his face… killed me." I blink back the tears, furiously; there's no way I'm crying now. "I hate myself for making him feel like that, and I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to him. I will not give up."

Compassion settles in Seth's eyes, and that of his companion.

"Well, isn't that too damn bad?" I swivel toward the angry voice. Jasper's standing right behind me – arms crossed over his chest, looking mighty pissed.

My eyes feast on him. His face looks pale and gaunt, and there are large, dark rings under his eyes. And I hate myself a little more for putting him through this.

Seth stands between us, ready to stop Jasper if he decides to launch himself at me.

"Didn't I tell you to stay home?" Everyone else can be fooled by his cool insolence, but not me. The deepest depths of his blue pools relays a different story – a story that maybe only a lover could discern accurately – the pain, the longing, the love. If he weren't so blinded by his fury, he'd see all of those emotions reflecting back at him.

He can say whatever he wants – and these people can believe the lies for all I care, but not me… _never_! He loves me, and I'll make him say it… if not today, then on another.

"Jasper…"

"How did you get here?" There's a sudden emptiness in his eyes that frightens me. He callously looks right through me, as if I'm an inconvenience – dirt under his fingernails.

"Me, and I'm _not_ taking him back," Jacob says, as he struts passed. He stops at the bar –not close enough to listen, but near enough to be a witness if the situation becomes more… interesting… for spectators.

"Jasper, please hear me out, I…"

"Stop. I don't wanna hear it. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Yes it does!" I press on, not giving him another opportunity to shoot me down. "I told you that I always thought there was something wrong with me – that I felt like the outcast, even in my past relationships. I could never figure out what was missing, why I was so unhappy. After my divorce, I just figured I'd be better off alone. But Jasper… changed all that for me. _I love you_. You are my heart and soul and everything else that has been missing in my life. I'm proud of you, I'll be proud to be with you, and I want everyone to know it."

"I already told you Ed… I've heard it all."

"Have you?" I whisper, stepping closer, invading his personal space. "Have you heard that you're gorgeous – absolutely beautiful, inside and out? You're strong, and so secure with you're identity. I admire you so much for that. You always mean what you say. You taught me how to make love… and be in love. I cared about you – loved you – wanted to make you as happy as you made me. But-"

"Stop." His voice is just above a whisper. His body is rigid, but I see trembling.

"But I-I didn't understand how deep I was. I knew I loved you and cared about you – but I should've worshipped you. I should've kissed the ground you walk on, I should've thanked my lucky stars everyday that I found you – had you in my life. I-I just didn't realize until after I left… after I'd used up all my chances. I'd never make that mistake again. I love you so much that I can't stand it, Jas."

"I don't want you anymore." The words were barely uttered through lips that barely part.

Gasping, I almost fold right there, but I see a sliver of his desperation to save me from falling – he's not immune. The flurry of emotion disappears when his eyes pinch shut and a strangled breath is forced between his supple lips – it's a fissure in his armor.

It could be a figment, but I use it as encouragement.

"Please tell me I'm not too late to make this right. Give me a second chance to show you that I would never do that to you ever again. Please Jas. I love you." I'm so close I can touch him, and so I do – just a light touch on the arm, but it's an error in judgment. He wasn't ready for it, and he backs up several steps – a safe distance, but it might as well be miles by the look in his eyes.

He's shutting down again.

"You don't love me. You love what I did for you." It sounds like he's trying to convince himself. "I showed you that you were into men and not women. I just happened to be your first one."

You know what? That fucking did it. First Alice, then Rosalie, even Jacob and Seth – but not Jasper – _how dare_ he doubt my feelings for him. I guess being reasonable isn't the way this is going to be played out.

_Swell._ I guess its dramatics then.

Yet another person doubting I know my own feelings shoves me completely off the edge. "You think it's as simple as all that, Jas? So, you're saying that I don't love you; I just love being touched by a guy? So, any man will do? All I need is a dick up my ass to be happy?" I turn to find several gawkers still observing us. I grab one of them, kissing him hard and quick.

"No, his lips are too thin."

I grab another. Having to stand on my tippy toes, I kiss him full on the lips.

"No, he's too tall."

I turn to find Garrett standing right next to me, but Seth quickly steps in. "You are not using my man to prove your point." I see a slight smile on his face, and I almost return it, but that would ruin the effect I'm going for, so I suppress it.

I grab another male lurking in the vicinity, kissing him harshly. "I guess you'll do. Take me to the back and let's see if I really just need a man."

I half drag the poor guy through the draped door, and into the shadows of white billowy curtains beyond. He puts his arms around me, grabbing my ass, and begins kissing my neck. I silently pray that Jasper hurries.

I don't even consider the possibility that he won't come.

_He has to._

The man goes for my lips, but I turn my face away, not bothering to contain my blatant non-desire, but ignorant as all get out, his kisses travel down to my neck again.

It's been almost a full minute and there's still no sign of Jasper. Worried that he may have recognized my bluff, I'm ready to stop the guy and call it quits for the night. I start to pull away – tell this guy that he's doing absolutely nothing for me, just as I suspected (because I know my own fucking mind), but in that same second, the man is whisked away from me and Jasper is towering over me… livid.

"Didn't I tell you that you don't belong back here?" he rages, his eyes blazing.

_He came back for me._

"You told me that _we_ don't belong back here," I reply, with a blinding smile, and unshed tears brimming in my eyes.

In a matter of seconds, I witness his shock wipe any hint of his anger away, and his defenses come crashing down.

"Then let's go home," he whispers, fervently.

I throw my arms around his neck and hold him closely. Unmoving, it takes a moment for his shaking form to catch up to my enthusiasm, but when he does, he crushes me against him with stunning force.

I try to kiss him, but he dissuades me. Confused and hurt, I look up into his heavenly face to see a storm brewing. "If I kiss you now – I won't be stopped."

His eyes are brighter, more coherent, but there are no smiles. Jasper's wound up so tight, that I know if I don't try to extinguish the blaze, whatever happens when we get back is going to be explosive.

We don't say one word on the way out of the bar, or on the way _home_.

One thing I am certain about – before Jasper takes me to his bed I want him to have no doubt what my intentions are toward him, so as we exit the boat and he pulls me toward his cabin, I deter him.

"Wait… come with me for a minute."

His hesitation and frustration is palpable. The control he's exhibiting to keep himself in check is insurmountable. I understand – I'd love nothing more than to skip this little detour and get right to the good stuff, but this is important.

"It won't take but a minute," I promise.

There's someone special he needs to meet.

Walking up to the inn – hand-in-hand with Jasper, I feel an overwhelming happiness wash over me. Each step I take is more surreal than the last, as I realize I'm in the very midst of the most profound moment of my existence. Everything I've ever wanted for my future – as a child, a young boy, a man – a great career, a wonderful home, the love of my life – it's all been attained in a single day. And every day I'm allowed to live in this dream will just be icing on the cake.

What a fucking day!

* * *

><p>I was oh so close to making Seth the bad guy. That would've been evil of me, and a decent twist, but I like him too much for that.<p>

Do you think Jasper gave in to Ed too soon? It's true I could have dragged this out, but what can I say? The boys are in love. Do you think Ed should have forgiven Jasper if he'd been with someone else during their 'break'? It was a short break, yes, but Jasper was still entitled to see others…right or wrong?

Next chapter Jasper will be meeting Alice and he'll finally spill. Yay! It was supposed to happen this chapter, but the fact is, due to the issue I mentioned in the beginning AN I didn't have the heart for the lemon, and this was the best place to cut off the original chapter.

Anyone want a sample of the next chap? It's gonna be juicy. ;) Leave a review!

**Remember to visit our contest page. If you don't plan on writing for it you can put it on alert so you don't miss any of the entries.**

Deb xoxo

RIP Matthew~


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you, Lauren (**Leckadams**), for buying these boys. 3

Sorry for the wait. I can always tell when some of you become impatient while waiting for an update, because I get a whole lot of hits, alerts, etc. on my OTHER stories. LOL. Every time I see one of these in my inbox I'm saying…"I know, I know…I'm trying people!" But thank you for reading my other stories!

If you get antsy waiting for the next update, now would be a good time to go back and read through this story, because the next two chapters are going to reveal some things that you may not remember or didn't catch from previous chapters. Js

Finally, the '**Summer It All Began**' contest is still going on. You have just under two weeks to get your fic's in. It's MY TURN to read your stuff! The first and second place winners in both judges, and reader polls get paid, among other gifts. It doesn't hurt to try…right? – And it just means that we all have more slash to read, and who doesn't love that?

**Layne Faire**, you're one awesome chick. Hugs, during this rough patch, and thanks again for everything you do for me.

Disclaimer: I do not own twilight or any of it's characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14 <strong>-

Without words, Jasper concedes, allowing me to pull him through the darkness of the backyard without too much resistance. The wind howls around us as if saying 'welcome back old friend'. Goose bumps rise along the back of my neck, and I smile into the billowy shadows, receiving its familiar eeriness with deep regard.

Entering the inn through the back door, laughter is heard coming from the basement. Once Jasper realizes I'm heading toward the merriment, he plants his feet stubbornly. I tug on his arm, but he doesn't budge. I flash him a look – pleading for him to bear with me, which only causes him to level me with an expression of supreme impatience, but his legs start to move forward anyway.

A card game is in progress, actually three different card games are running simultaneously. I recall the mention of a Euchre tournament earlier, when my mind had been preoccupied, and if I'm not mistaken, upon a unanimous decision, a dozen of Rosalie's assorted muffins are at stake. It never takes long for her guests to recognize the value of such a prize.

With his wife's baked goods on the line, Emmett barely notices our entry. The stern set of his jaw, and the determination etched in his forehead while he mulls over his cards, shows he's in it to win it.

"I think we can do it Rosie. What the hell…I'm callin' it spa –" Emmett looks at Rosalie, finally noticing her shocked expression is geared elsewhere. His grin is massive and mischievous when he glances at our hands, which happen to be linked together. He's the first to speak, his tone teasing, "Hey guys, _what's up_?"

Taking a deep breath, I smile, glancing at Jasper.

But he's not looking at me…and he's not smiling.

His eyes are fixated on the newest guest – Alice. I'm not sure if he's aware of it, but his hand twitches in mine, his grip – tight then loose, tight then loose.

He watches her like a hawk – seriously intense, as she stands up slowly, making her way toward us. Stopping a few feet away, she meets Jasper's stare – both assessing one another. His eyes flicker to mine – and that quick flash of humbled thankfulness, undiluted pride, and admiration in his gaze, lets me know he's registered the importance of this visit.

His appreciation sparks a deep seeded need to protect and love him – be everything he'll ever need.

They'd met once before…a long time ago, and I don't want to assume that Jasper remembers Alice, even though the air has an undercurrent that no one in the room is able to deny – a dead giveaway that this is no joke. He knows exactly who she is – and why she's here.

This is serious.

This is the step that crosses the line from merely living…_surviving_, to having a life – a _great_ life.

"Jasper, this is my sister Alice. Alice, this is Jasper; the man that I've told you about." I hesitate slightly, the words lodged in my throat – but not out of fear, only out of pure emotion. "This is the man I love with all my heart." My declaration is somber, yet loud enough for everyone in the room to hear clearly.

It hadn't been as hard as I'd imagined it would be – easy, even. It came naturally and flowed from my lips. I don't pay much attention to the others, focusing on the tension between Jasper and my sister.

"Well, Jasper, it's very nice to finally meet. I've heard _so much_ about you," she says quietly, a soft smile on her face. They both appear to have snapped out of their appraisals of one another when she extends her hand in greeting. But instead of a handshake, Jasper brings her hand up to his lips for a chaste peck.

"Pleasure to meet you ma'am." His southern voice is heavy with _feelings_, and I think Alice actually blushed. _First time ever_!

"Jasper?" Rosalie stands – the card game all but forgotten, while she eyes her brother with curiosity and surprise. A relieved smile spreads across her face when she recovers from the initial shock that her brother is here, with me…and seems to be happy about it.

Squeezing his hand, I let him know that I'm not going anywhere, and to go see his sister. A small, grateful smile graces his lips before he heads toward Rosalie. I hear him say a quiet "I'm sorry" before I turn away to give them their privacy.

Alice squeals quietly as I pick her up and hug her tightly. "Can you believe it Alice?" I whisper in her hair.

"Everything is good?"

"Better than good," I confirm. "But we definitely have to talk."

She nods, appreciatively. "I'm so proud of you Edward. And so, so happy."

We both turn to the object of my affection, desires, and fantasies just as he's swiveling around. The smile on his face takes my breath away.

He's very pleased indeed, and I'm hoping that any remaining doubts he may have harbored regarding my intentions are gone.

We find ourselves drawn to each other as various houseguests engage us in conversation. We linger for just a few minutes before I become antsy, needing to be alone with Jasper.

"Well guys, why don't you pull up a couple of chairs, and play a couple of rounds with us." I could kill my sister at the moment, for asking us to join in. _What is she thinking_?

Jasper looks pained, and I'm trying to figure out the best way for us to get out of this without hurting anyone's feelings.

_I guess that means 'hell no' is out of the question_.

_Son of a bitch_.

Never known for being quick on my feet, no reply comes readily. Thoroughly exasperated, and obviously showing signs of it, Alice breaks out into laughter.

"Jesus, I was just teasing. Get the hell out of here." She smiles slyly. "Jasper can take me out to lunch tomorrow."

This time, it's Jasper that blushes. _Cutest thing ever_.

XXXXX

A million things are running through my head as the events of the day finally bear down on me. Jasper leads us through the murk adeptly, while I struggle to see a hand in front of my face. My equilibrium sucks out here, and his strides are long and purposeful, making it even harder to keep up. The heat from our joined hands keeps me grounded…reminding me that I'm not in some dream; this is real.

I'm stoked – awed, completely overwhelmed, and raw. I require an outlet just as much as Jasper, and that scares me. Who's going to referee this storm? Who's going to make sure we don't tear each other apart? And how can I be sane enough to evaluate this situation accurately, without being able to stop it from actually happening? One of us has always maintained somewhat of a level head in our previous encounters, but I don't think either one of us is up for that role tonight.

I'd thought the side trip to the inn would've cooled our ardor somewhat, but for me it's _worse_. Voicing my feelings about him to the others… seeing him with Alice… made my need for him skyrocket, and right now I'm flying in outer space, trying to figure out how to land without crashing.

_Sixteen days. Too long. Much, much too long_.

I release Jasper's hand so he's able to unlock his front door. I hear keys jingling in his hand – a pause, then more jingling. The door doesn't open, and he backs up a step. I look at him, confused.

Frustration – plain and simple. "Jesus Christ, I can't even open the fuckin' door," he growls.

He stands, glaring at the door, shifting from one foot to the other.

Impatience wins out. Grabbing the keys from him I slide one in the lock, happy that there are only three to choose from.

"Edward – we should probably talk –" Thankfully, the first key works, and I push open the door.

Hauling him through the entrance I basically attack him, as expected – with arms and legs, teeth and nails – so desperate to feel every inch of him. He holds me close, but avoids my searching lips.

"Fuck Edward…please, just give me a minute," he gasps.

"What?"

He sets me away from him. "Go on up - I'll be there in a second." _Really?_

I don't know whether to be happy or disappointed that he's able to keep his bearings when I feel so out of control.

"O-okay…"

Perplexed, I climb the steep stairs to his loft, but I turn before I reach the top. I spy Jasper in the kitchen area, downing a glass of water. I watch while he puts the glass down, staring out the small, darkened window just above the sink. His hands grip the ledge of the counter – even from the distance I can see his knuckles are white.

Worried, and more lucid – I take a closer look at my surroundings. The kitchen is spotless, but the living room is a mess of pillows, cushions and sheets. With a strong sense of foreboding, I turn slowly, making my way up the final step. I try to swallow past the sudden nervous lump that's taken up residence in my throat, but practically choke on it when I look around his bedroom.

_No. no. no_!

Everything is exactly the same.

_Exactly_ how we'd left it sixteen days ago.

The clothes I'd removed from his body lie in the same heap on the floor. The sheets and pillows are still mussed from our lovemaking. The lube still lies on the bed and the condom wrapper right there on the floor where I'd watched him toss it.

What has he been going through these past weeks?

I'd thought I had it bad – but _I knew_ I was coming back.

He didn't.

I hadn't given him the luxury of having that information.

Fuck.

Jumping into action, I scramble about the space, picking up the evidence, and cleansing the room from our last encounter.

_So fucking selfish_.

Lost in my anger and self-hatred I don't notice him behind me until I feel his arms circle my waist. "Don't," he whispers, hugging my back against his chest tightly.

With one strong hand, he tries to yank the blanket from my grip, but my hold is relentless, toughened by a stalwart determination to fix this wrong.

_As if making the bed will atone for all the sins I've committed against him_.

Caught off guard by realizing the futility of such a task, Jasper finally manages to wrest the fabric away from my grasp gently – but sternly.

"Jas – I'm so fucking sorry. You didn't deserve this." I'm choked up, my eyes stinging with the bitterness of my choices. _How could I have been so uncaring_?

"Don't…" He sounds choked up too…anguished almost, and I can't bear it. He clears his throat before continuing, his voice is firm, and in control. "I wish I could have told you that I took it like a man, Edward…you leaving..."

He sighs, and I try to turn in his arms, but he holds me in place. "But I didn't. I haven't been sober in more than two weeks, and you can probably see that I haven't been able to sleep in my bed since you left."

"I shouldn't have- God…," I cry out. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too," he whispers.

"For what?"

"For lots of things…," he murmurs. Hands resting on my shoulders, he applies a subtle pressure – his way of telling me to stay put, then lifts the hem of my shirt up and over my head. "I should have told you about him…Alec, I mean." His tone is despondent, and I want to comfort him so badly, but as hard as it is, I remain rooted to the floor, like he wants.

His soft lips ghost from one shoulder to the other, peppering tiny wet pecks along the expanse – a reward for complying with his silent request.

"He messed with me…dicked me around for a long time. He'd ignore me in public, but I let it go because I knew he was just afraid to come out. He snubbed me one to many times and we fought about it… he broke it off after that. I was pissed and I'm not gonna lie – it hurt," Jasper admits.

Sliding his arms around my midsection, he deftly unhooks my belt, and pops the top button of my jeans. "I thought I was in love with him – but I've begun to realize that maybe I was just invested…y'know? Because it doesn't measure… to this." My belt slips through each loop, as he tugs on one end, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clank. "I know better now. _I know_ Edward."

"_You know_ what?" I whisper.

He turns me in his arms, staring directly into my eyes. "That it didn't work with Alec for a reason – I've been waitin' for you." Warm hands slide up my chest, cupping my neck so that his thumbs brush against my jaw. "I love you, Edward and I'll do whatever it takes to be with you. We'll make this work."

"I-I have to tell you about my job. It's-"

"Shh," he interrupts, pressing his thumb over my lips. "Please…let me finish. It's _my turn_ to talk." Reminding me of my audacity at the bar causes heat to rise in my cheeks, but he doesn't notice as he focuses on his thumb brushing over my lips again and again. When he lifts his eyes they're darker, with a desperate edge – something visceral… and _goddammit_, it makes my body tremble with love – and _fear_.

Fear of a desire that knows no boundaries, or accepts no compromises. I want him in every way…forever.

"I promised myself back then that I'd never fall in love again, but I've been stupid, because I've loved you…all along, I think," he confesses, shamefaced. "I didn't realize it right away, but I knew the extent of my feelings before you left, and I was just too fucking scared to tell ya. I should've. And I should've fought harder for you. Worse yet, I ran away, lettin' you walk out of my life without tellin' you how I felt."

Directing me backward, Jasper urges me to take a few steps until my calves brush against his bedspread. Dropping my jeans and boxers mid-thigh, he pushes me lightly back onto the mattress.

He kneels in front of me, and proceeds to remove my shoes and socks methodically, lost in a troubled thought. "I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I never got the chance to tell you. I'd like to think I'd eventually have found the balls to come to you, but I thank you _so fuckin' much_ for coming back here and doing what I couldn't." He looks up - his eyes shining with pride and love. "You fought for us…and I love you so much more for that."

With a half-smile, he divests me of the remainder of my clothing. "I'm never gonna be good with words. I might screw up sometimes, because I don't know always know what to say, or when to say it, but I'm tellin' you now that I don't want to live without you…ever. You're it for me – you're my everything, Edward."

At first, his lips are tentative when they search for mine, but after a few safe kisses, they're more demanding – and seconds later, we're biting, writhing, and touching as much of each other as possible. Clothes are discarded as mouths crush, slant, and consume.

Breathlessly, Jasper pulls away and not wasting any time, strips out of his clothes. I lay back on the bed, watching him as he crawls over top of me.

"Please tell me this happening – that you're really here." His eyes are haunted and vulnerable, while his hands and lips roam reverently over every inch of my naked, quivering skin.

"Jas…I'm here…I'm not going anywhere," I pant into his hair. My fingers trace up the sinew of his arms, tangling in his mass of blond curls. Growling, his open mouth brands a hot, wet trail across my collarbone and down my chest. He latches onto one pebbled nipple with his teeth, causing my back arch off the bed. "God Jasper, please…I need to be with you again."

Our kiss is passionate – tongues and lips fuse into a perfect mold, as our need to reclaim each other escalates epically.

He pulls up for air, "Edward…,"

"Yes?" I answer, breathless from our bout of kissing and the passion simmering in his gaze.

"Can I make love to you?"

"Yes," I gasp.

Stretching out on his side next to me, Jasper spits into his palm and reaches down, grasping my hardness in his wet fist.

Eyes clamped shut, teeth grinding – my whole body is wired so fucking tight, as sounds of him jacking me off fill the room.

Willing myself to ease up and breathe for God's sake, I groan, rising up on my elbows, so I can watch while he plants sizzling kisses down my stomach, his tongue swirling over each hipbone…flicking along the edge of my shortened pubes.

I can't keep my hips still, pumping up and down in small pleading thrusts. Cum froths from my swollen slit, coating my head with a creamy glaze – which he wastes no time devouring. Sucking my cock deep down his throat, the muscle constricts around my head, causing me to cry out from the exquisite pressure.

Under long, thick lashes, a blue gaze stares back. He dives down on my shaft, the slickened length disappearing between his rosy lips again and again, my eyes blurring from the white hot pleasure he bestows so freely unto me.

I fight the urge to stop him until it becomes too much, and I'm ready to shoot my load. "Babe, please…I need you so badly. I'm not gonna be able to hang on."

Knowing full well that he'd rather be inside me when I cum, Jasper yields to my plea. He relents, but not before his soft tongue sweeps slowly around the rim, smiling when my cock leaps from his teasing attention.

Reaching for the nightstand, he looms over me. The tip of his dick brushes across my chest, already hard and wanting - flushed and seeping.

The sight is too tempting – by far.

I shimmy down the sheets to take his erection into my mouth. Squeezing his supple posterior, my tongue follows every ridge and vein, sucking and slurping, like I've been sucking cock my whole life. Jasper tosses the necessities onto the bed, digging his fists into the mattress on either side of my head, while his hips roll seductively over my face. I'm drowning in the satisfaction of my lovers gaze, as he watches me swallow his length over and over.

"I love seein' my cock in your mouth," he grinds out.

Delighted by his reaction, I redouble my efforts, finding a rhythm that matches his movements. He grunts, and his thrusts become more erratic as the salty flavor of his precum spills onto my tongue.

Just when I start to wonder if he'll be able to stop – he does. Slowly pulling away, he winces when his hard cock pops out of my mouth.

"Jesus, darlin'," he gasps.

Between my legs, he sits back on his heels, gazing over my body hungrily. He grasps onto the underside of my thighs and pushes forward and out – spreading me wide and waiting. I don't feel vulnerable under his hot gaze, but opposite – I feel powerful and in charge.

"So beautiful," he utters, pecking the inside of my knee, before leaning over my body to give me a sweet kiss. Our mouths capture moans and swear words while our erections grind insistently against one another.

"Please Jas…" He's up, preparing us before I can finish begging.

Picking up the gel, he squeezes it over my rigid shaft. "Touch yourself," he commands, softly. I do as I'm ordered, while Jasper strokes his own cock and his amply gelled fingers enter me slowly.

By the time he inserts the third finger I'm on the brink of insanity. "Mmmm, no more…enough, please…," I beseech.

But he continues to tease me, diving in and out, switching positions inside of me. I push back into his hand, riding high on the sensations firing throughout my body. His fingers go deep, touching my sweet spot, and it's a close call. My dick stiffens even more at the brief contact. I'm shaking my head back and forth, making no sense at all – mumbling for him to keep going and to stop at the same time.

"Jesus Christ, can we fuck now?" I grit out.

Quickly sheathing his cock, he lines up, but just before he enters, I deny access.

I need to do this for him.

"Let me give you you're fantasy," I explain.

I don't know if he remembers, but when we'd gone to the drive-in Jasper admitted that he got off fantasizing about me being on top, and I'd like to try that.

"I want to be _on_ top." Just in case my words aren't clear, I make a flipping gesture with my hand so he won't be confused by my request – because I'm not ready _to be_ _a_ top. I'm not sure if I'll ever be.

There's no need to worry – Jasper understands, swiftly reversing our positions in a jumble of frantic, and downright giddy, clumsiness. I'd have laughed if I weren't in a state of hardcore sexual deprivation. As it is, any sane thoughts take a back seat to a nut that's motivated to bust with even coincidental contact.

He stacks the pillows against the headboard, leaning back against them in a half-sitting, half-laying down, position.

Waiting for me, Jasper is a picture of resplendent beauty. I know I should be doing…_God_, _something_, but instead I sit between his muscled thighs, stock-still, gawping like a teenager looking at his first centerfold.

Idly stroking his cock, Jasper smiles. "Climb on, darlin'."

I crawl over top of him. Grabbing my balls and the base of my cock, I lower myself onto him. With his dick in position, he spreads my ass cheeks, pushing up while I drop gradually onto him. I impale myself on his thick shaft, my body quivering from the fullness of each steepled inch I take.

It's a few seconds before I'm fully seated – the pain of being stretched is definitely there, but once my ass makes contact with the top of his thighs I automatically begin to raise. Jasper stops me, latching onto my hips, and holding me in place.

His eyes are squeezed shut like he's in agony, but he chuckles. "Hold up Ed…_shit_, so fuckin' tight…gimme just a second." His voice is strained, and when he opens his eyes, they're the bluest I've ever seen them. Wrapping a hand around the nape of my neck, he pulls me in for a scorching kiss, and for several moments, his lips and tongue are hot and savage as they plunder my mouth greedily.

Tearing my throbbing lips away, I try to advise him that I can't sit still for one more second, but I'm too breathless. Instead I tell him with my eyes that I'm ready, and that he has to be, too.

After a few awkward movements, while I figure out the best way to do this, I find a pattern that suits us both. I reach behind Jasper, grabbing ahold of the headboard to keep steady while I bounce. It's a heady feeling being above him, the dominant one…watching Jasper underneath me, writhing and weakened with the pleasure I'm giving him.

"Oh God, just like that…yeah," Jasper pants and grunts, while his hands roam over my entire torso, front and back.

Rising and falling, rising and falling, too soon the tightness in the pit of my stomach enfolds me, trapping me in its burning vice. Knowing that this night will not include my best display of stamina, knowing this is going to be over before its barely started, but most of all knowing that this isn't the last time I'll be in this position, I relinquish control to the all-consuming need that's been building since I left here sixteen days ago.

One touch, and my fevered cock goes up in flames, catapulting me into an ether world that only focuses on one goal…relief. Selfishly, I move in ways that give me the most pleasure, finding that one spot deep inside me that makes my toes curl. Faintly, I hear Jasper's curse words mingled with moans and grunts, letting me know he's reaching the very same conclusion.

Thankfully, I don't have to manage a tempo for my hand – each powerful thrust drives my cock through my slickened fist. A few twists and flicks, and I'm spurting rows of hot cum all over his chest, while spasms of raw ecstasy surge through me in tidal waves of indescribable bliss.

"Ah, God… _shit_..." Feeling Jasper's cock pulse within me, I open my eyes just in time to see him shatter – his body arching, wracked with tremors. Never have I seen anything more sublime.

Tired from my orgasm, from this crazy day, from the last two weeks, my head falls onto Jasper's shoulder. He embraces me, and his spent, sexy scent lulls me into a comatose state.

"Are you gonna stay awake 'til I can get you cleaned up?"

"Yeah…," I answer, sleepily. He mumbles something about 'betting me' as he makes his way to the bathroom. I want to ask him what he wants me to bet against, but my mouth won't cooperate.

A vague memory of something I forgot to tell him scratches at the surface of my consciousness, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow as I succumb to utter exhaustion.

XXXXX

The morning is spent in bed, exploring each other's bodies while maintaining easy conversation, and light-hearted banter – both of us merely enjoying the physical and emotional contact. Everything between us is so effortless. I can honestly say that I've never felt this connected…this content…this comfortable, this – sated, and utterly in love – ever, and it feels so normal and natural that I don't remember what life was like before I met Jasper.

It's amazing that in the span of a couple of summer months, under a sultry Louisiana sky, he managed to erase all the years of my discontent, failures, and unhappiness.

The feeling is un-fucking-believably-out-of-this-world-phenomenal. I'm pretty sure that Jasper is of like mind, if his wide smile is any indication.

I'd immediately remembered what I'd forgotten to tell him last night, but I've been waiting, not wanting to burst this bubble we're in.

A small part of me worries he'll be disappointed I've taken a job here – that I'm moving here. Maybe he'd prefer the distance – a time-out, between visits. I know it's a longshot, but I've never had a short supply of insecurity, so my mind continues to dwell on that possibility.

His phone beeps on the bedside table, disturbing us from our morning make-out session. He groans but reaches for it, smiling when he reads the message left for him. I wait patiently, feigning disinterest, but I can't help but wonder who it's from. As if reading my thoughts, he tilts the phone in my direction.

'_I told u he'd come back ya big baby.'_

"It's from Peter. I texted him late last night to let him know what happened." Sighing, Jasper explains, "He and Embry came down the last few weekends…y'know to…anyway, I figured he wouldn't get the message 'til mornin' but I thought I owed him the peace of mind."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I owe him a pretty big apology – oh, and by the way, he may or may not kick your ass the next time he sees you."

I smile, but it's a little wistful…and plenty regretful. "I'd deserve it if he did. We'll have to make a trip up there soon, so I can find out my fate."

There's a bit of silence before Jasper blurts, "I kissed Jacob."

I knew this already, so it didn't come as a surprise, but it still hurts to hear. "Yeah, Jacob told me. I don't blame you –"

"That's it though…just the kiss," Jasper interrupts. "I couldn't go through with anything else, and I didn't want to."

"Okay," I respond quietly, with a small smile, not sure what else I should say.

I don't feel obligated to tell him that I would've forgiven him for anything he'd done. It's a moot point, and not worth much stock when there really isn't anything to test it against. But I would've – and it makes me infinitely happy to see that I won't be required to prove it.

"I just don't want there to be any secrets between us."

"Me either, and I guess I should reassure you that I didn't…uh, meet anyone either. But I do have one secret – um, about my job…"

Recognition dawns and his smile turns into a frown. "I'm so sorry, with everything else goin' on…," he explains, scrubbing his hands over his face in frustration, but he shakes it off fast enough, grinning. "So, I'm assumin' you got your dream job."

"I did," I answer, looking at him for any reservations, and finding none. Jasper would never deny me my dream, even if it meant maintaining a long distance relationship in order to have it.

"Congratulations darlin'," he says brightly, nothing but pride and happiness shining in his eyes.

"Thank you, Jas." Never being one to accept compliments or praise easily, I duck my chin to hide my flushed cheeks.

He has none of that, hooking his finger under my chin, and lifting my face. "Don't hide that beautiful blush from me. So when do you start?"

"Monday."

"Monday? Wow…," He expels a gush of breath. "That doesn't give us much time. Will you stay here with me until you have to go home?" He's trying to preserve his smile, but sadness is creeping in, and I can't go on letting him think I'm leaving.

"Well there is one detail that I haven't mentioned yet…my new job…it isn't in Chicago, it's here. I'm the new music teacher at Bon Terre Elementary."

In a heartbeat I'm lying flat on my back with Jasper looming over me – a dangerous expression on his face. "You'd never joke about something like that, would you?"

My palms cradle his stubbled jaw, while I stare into those desperately, hopeful blue eyes. "Of course not, baby. I'm moving here. This is my home now."

"You're home? Here?" he asks, still not ready to believe.

"Yeah, now why don't you let me up so we can go tell the others? I'm pretty sure Alice is dying to know."

"You haven't told anyone? Even Alice?"

"No, baby, you're always gonna be the first to know from now on."

This kiss starts out soft and sweet, but quickly turns primal and needy...

We wouldn't make it back to the inn until almost suppertime, when our need for nourishment could no longer be ignored.

And, as luck would have it, Rosalie's guests had departed for the evening, electing to eat dinner on the dock, leaving Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and I to spend a quiet dinner together. Over an excellent meal, we're able to share the good news about my job, while Rosalie and Emmett finally have a chance to share their good news.

Rosalie is twelve-weeks pregnant.

XXXXX

Stay Still _by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd_

_Victoria's funeral is small and quiet. Jeremy only attends the ceremony to show his deep respect for James, who took the life of his spouse to save his own. He owes a debt to the man, but he'll never get the opportunity to repay it._

_Shamed by his wife's actions, James resigned from his position, and is moving back home to Colorado. He won't even need a reference from Jeremy since he's leaving law enforcement altogether – deciding to co-run his dad's hardware store instead._

_James had pulled out all the bells and whistles for his wife's final arrangements, but it didn't escape anyone's notice that he'll be leaving three states between him and her remains._

_After the service, her body lowered into the ground – safe to never hurt anyone again – Jeremy turns to see Tony leaning against a faraway tree._

_It pains him to see the man who will never again be his friend. Like James, Tony is also leaving Halfway. Even though he'd been released of all charges, his reputation in this small community would forever be blemished._

_Jeremy takes a direct route to the man, knowing things need to be said._

"_Thanks for not giving up on the case, and finding the real killer," Tony states quickly, looking over Jeremy's shoulder._

"_I-I knew – I just know you could…never- "_

"_I was in love with you, y'know?" Tony asks, sharp green eyes piercing his. Jeremy notices the use of past tense and the twinge of bitterness in his voice. He'd only recently realized Tony's feelings for him might have extended beyond friendship._

_And as Jeremy had felt the cold steel of Victoria's needle penetrate his skin, he'd finally recognized his own feelings for the man standing in front of him. Images of Tony had swept through his mind, and in those seconds before he'd blacked out, his heart had ached with what could have been. Just as it did now. Because although he loves Tony too, their love can't sustain the fact that Jeremy had accused him of murder – charged him with the crime._

_Jeremy's eyes remain dry, but his heart weeps for the love…the passion, they will never share – a priceless love failing to endure one costly mistake._

"_Yes," Jeremy admits, wanting to say so much more – repeat the sentiment, but recognizing the futility and the impracticality stops him from speaking the words. With one quick nod, Tony turns on his heel, and walks out of Jeremy's life._

XXXXX

The next day, Jasper takes Alice to lunch, while I make the arrangements with a packing company to have my possessions boxed. They'll make sure everything is prepared, then Jasper and I will head up to Chicago with a moving truck to haul everything back here. The rent on my apartment is paid through the end of September, so I have a little over a month to retrieve my belongings.

Jasper and I had a long talk last night and decided that I'd stay at Rosalie's inn until we found a house that suited both our needs, then we'd move into it together. Until then, I'll store my things in his workshop.

To keep busy until Jasper and Alice get back from lunch, Rosalie and I bond while making cookies, which turns out to be a blast. Now that she knows Jasper and I are a couple, she spills on all the good stuff from his childhood, like when he took his sixth-grade class picture with his shirt inside out – and backwards, or how he had a hard-on in church for two-months straight because he had a crush on the altar boy, and how he cried after he kissed his first boy – which happened to be said altar boy, three months later.

I'm setting a platter of peanut butter cookies on the dining room table when I hear a familiar voice on the front porch.

"Why d'ya have to use that?" I smile, hearing the curious little boy.

"It stops the door from creakin'," Jasper explains, with his never-ending patience.

_He's back!_

Sprinting to the door, I witness Jasper leaning over Billy, while Billy sprays the squeaky hinge, or thereabouts, with some WD-40.

"You gotta get a little higher," Jasper instructs lightly, when Billy's attention span wanders away from the task. _He's going to make a great dad someday_.

"Mr. Edward!" Billy yells, noticing me standing there.

Jasper straightens up, staring unabashedly, before his eyes fall away shyly, and a blush covers his cheeks.

_Yeah, I'm happy to see you too_.

"Hey, kiddo!" I say approaching the two of them. For Billy's sake I just brush my fingertips along Jasper's arm in greeting. "How was lunch?"

"It was good."

"Where's Alice?"

He hitches his thumb behind him, and I peer out the door to see her talking to a shirtless guy, spreading fresh gravel along Rosalie's driveway.

_Figures_.

It's a gorgeous day, full sun, with a late summer breeze. I'd say it's a great day for a bike ride.

"How about that bike ride you promised me, Billy?"

"Yeah!" He exclaims, fist-pumping. "Gonna go tell ma…be right back!" he yells, already half way down the path.

Jasper's gaze is inquiring, and I'm glad Billy didn't tell him about the house in town up for sale. I want him to be surprised. "C'mon," I urge, taking his hand and ushering him down the porch steps. "So, are you gonna tell me what you and Alice talked about at lunch?" I say, kissing his cheek, and linking our arms together, while we walk to the shed where the bikes are located.

"Nope."

"Probably don't want to know, anyway," I surmise.

He laughs. "Probably not."

XXXXX

Friday rolls around and we say goodbye to Alice, who has to return to work, and her life in Chicago. Alice enjoyed her visit, but I can't see her living the small town life – she's a big city girl – 110%. The cab whisks her away with promises of returning for Rosalie's Thanksgiving feast.

Later that evening, Jasper and I head to the island for some dancing, and to inform the guys about my new job.

In the depths of the bayou the mood is light and fun, for once. We're out in the middle of nowhere, but we whisper our words and laughter, consciously respectful of the territory and its inhabitants.

I watch Jasper steer through the trenches, his eyes sparkling, while the moonlight shines down on his perfect face. He catches me staring, a glorious, uneven smile spreading across his face. I feel my own mouth stretch into a humongous smile.

Who knew someone could be this happy? Me…of all people?

At the island a celebration ensues, and drinks flow in a steady stream. Before long, I'm three sheets to the wind, and as high as a kite. Seth and I are topless on the dance floor, acting silly – trying to entice our men to come play with us. After chugging another beer both Jasper and Garrett doff their shirts to join us.

Seth and I are face-to-face, with the guys grinding behind us. Seth's getting frisky, waggling his eyebrows, like he's trying to tell me something, while running his hands along my abdomen.

The drinks have definitely lowered my inhibitions but I'm not into Seth, and I don't want him to think otherwise. I'm about to back off when I notice his eyes flash over my shoulder, realizing that he's merely looking for a rise out of Jasper, and maybe Garrett too. I decide I'm game – just wanting to tease Jasper a little… so I act like I'm all into Seth. I even do some exploring of my own, running my hand over his smooth, olive chest.

Although I'm petting down an attractive man, every drunken brain cell is just wondering how Jasper is reacting to all of this. It turns me all horny and shit thinking about Jasper becoming all possessive and jealous.

With like minds, Seth and I giggle like school girls, and for some odd reason, I have just enough sense to know that I'm probably gonna facepalm about this later.

And that reason comes swiftly.

"Do you know what happens when you play with fire?" Jasper whispers harshly in my ear, pushing me flush with Seth.

I attempt to remove my hands from Seth's chest, but they're wedged between us. It's awkward to say the least, and that discomfort rises tenfold when our erections mush together.

Seth's eyes widen, and he blushes profusely.

I'm kind of mortified myself.

"So sorry…," he says, sounding contrite.

"No…uh, me too…_fuck,_" I swear as my cock makes another connection with Seth's, and I have to grit my teeth so I don't scream out. I lean in so he can hear me, "Uh…so, that's not for you."

"Oh yeah, um – mine neither."

Jasper frees my hands from between Seth and my locked bodies, raising them over my head. Garrett looks at Jasper, before his hazel eyes fall on me. His hands come around Seth to touch me. I cry out when his fingertips run over my sensitive nipples at the same time that Jasper bites my neck.

"Does that feel good, Edward? You want Seth? Garrett too?"

"I want _you,_ Jas," I beg.

Turning in his embrace, our chests collide, lips assault, and rock-hard cocks smash. I kiss him with everything in me, needing to show him he'll be the only one I ever want.

Maybe making him jealous wasn't my best idea, because I feel really awful about it.

He breaks away, asking breathlessly, "So…what happens when you play with fire?"

"You get burned," I answer, quietly. _Lesson learned_.

He brushes the hair away from my face, staring into my eyes, rocking back and forth to a slow, soulful beat. "Are you gonna be able to wait 'til I can get you home to take care of this?" he questions, palming my cock.

"Hell yeah…can we go now?" My enthusiasm returns, full force.

Barely saying goodbye to the guys, I stumble out the door, making a beeline for the motorboat, but Jasper has other ideas.

"Wait, darlin'," he implores, steering me over to a far corner of the bonfire. It's Friday, so the party is _on_ outside. Jasper stands behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, while we take in the sight before us.

The two guys 'working', are complete opposites, one is fair-haired and skinned while the other is midnight black – both of them striking in their own respects.

"Watch – they're almost done."

I hear whispers amongst the crowd, of a 'James' and a 'Laurent' – obviously, the pair, center stage, that has everyone's rapt attention.

Apparently, from the hearsay, they're a real-life couple – and it's Laurent on top, filling his boyfriend with his thick cock. My dick jumps as James nears his completion. He pumps his shaft feverishly, while my gut twists with that familiar need.

Jasper's hand finds it way inside my jeans, and is mirroring James rabid movements. "You want to see him cum, baby? You gonna cum with him?"

"God…," I gasp. I couldn't stop him if I wanted to, and I don't. I'm too close, and I need him to finish the job. "Please."

Knowing James is close, Laurent stutters in his movements, maximizing his lover's pleasure – but not without a cost. Laurent's biceps flex, his teeth gnash, his control stretched under the strain of holding back for his boyfriend's sake.

James suddenly cries out, large ribbons of cum shooting from his cock, and I can't breathe, waiting for the grand finale. I try to delay my orgasm, I really do, but when Laurent pulls out his cock, swirling his slickened fingers over the crown, I feel my control slip, and when he throws his head back with a feral roar, I can't help it – I lose it – lost behind a curtain of white hot sparks.

"Wow…," I exclaim, swiveling in Jasper's arms. It's amazing to think that this island of debauchery is mine now, too.

"Yeah…," he says, his eyes roving over my flushed cheeks and parted mouth "…_wow._"

His gazes travels a path to my groin area, "Well, it looks like you couldn't wait 'til we got home, after all."

"Why? You think I'm done?…'cause baby, I haven't even started yet."

* * *

><p>AN: Well, another chapter with lots going on...<p>

The bayou boys are almost finished telling you their story. I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Let me know what you thought, and I'll give you a little of what's coming up in the next chapter.

**IMPORTANT!** Due to the fanfiction rating restrictions many authors/readers are abandoning the site for ones that allow MA fics. I intend to finish out Sinner's Island on fanfiction ONLY if the readership remains stable. I have already noticed that hit and review count is way down. If this continues to be the trend I'll be forced to move my fics where they'll be read. It's unfortunate that it's come to this, but if I do move my stories to a different site I'll be posting that information on my profile page. Thanks for reading.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: **Leckadams**, it's been quite a ride m'dear! Thanks for purchasing, and your patience.

So, there's one more chapter left, but this one marks the end of Ed's novel, Stay Still. I hope you enjoyed that little part of the story. **Layne Faire** is not only the best beta ever, but she's also created a banner for Ed's novel, so if you want to check it out I'll be posting it on my profile here, and on my brand new blog! That's right, due to all the ffn drama I've created a blog for updates on statuses, teasers on WIP's and new stories, and some pics and banners. So if you want to come visit, or follow me I'm at DebIstwisted – dot – blogspot – dot – com. I will finish SI on this site (as long as I'm allowed), but I may be removing the lemons, after I post the full story on the blog.

It's hard to believe that I'm almost done writing these boys. I'm feeling a little lost right now.

Disclaimer: I do not own twilight, or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 – Epilogue 1 of 2<strong>

**8 months later – Mid April**

"I've got my fingers crossed for ya boys."

"Thanks Shelly!" I call out to my boss, pushing eagerly through the front doors of Bon Terre Elementary School.

Taking the steps two at a time in a rush to start my weekend, I gasp when I see a small figure up in a large oak tree.

"C'mon Billy, what're ya doin'?" I admonish. "Go on and get yourself down from that tree. You're gonna get hurt."

He smiles slyly. "It's not '_gonna_', Mr. Edward. It's '_goin' ta_'."

_Seriously_? That's the only mistake that he found there.

Grrr. "Actually, its '_going to_'," I impart, straightening my spine – making me seem more scholarly and believable – like posture is going to fix this humiliating issue. "And if you don't get down I'm tellin' your mama," I add for good measure.

My threat only encourages peals of laughter from the obstinate little boy. "Whatever you say, Mr. Edward. See ya Monday," he says, jumping down from the tree with skilled ease, and skipping down the street with undiluted delight, no doubt in search of more mischief.

Once Billy is out of sight, I slump my shoulders in defeat.

When I'd first met Peter, I'd questioned him about speaking Cajun for Embry, he told me it wasn't purposeful – that you just learn to speak the language of your heart – and it's true.

I'm fighting it tooth and nail, but my grammar is '_goin' ta_' hell.

Frustratingly, I can't seem to correct it either, since half the time I don't realize my speech is being ambushed by 'ta's and ya's". And really, what's happened to "g's"? Since when did I stop using them at the end of my words?

How can twenty-five years of lessons on grammar be erased in a matter of months? _Shit._

Ah well, the heart wants what the heart wants…

And right now it wants Jasper...desperately. My abuse to the English language is a small price to pay for what I've gained in its disturbing demise.

Hopping on the bike Rosalie gave me, I speed off. Now that winter is over, I bike to school whenever I can. It affords me the opportunity to enjoy the weather, and helps keep me in shape.

It's a perfect day – the sun's shining through a light smattering of clouds, and it's a breezy seventy-three degrees. Thankfully, I'm able to carry everything I need in my messenger bag, so it makes the twenty-minute ride plausible.

Today, I'm not interested in the environment, so I pedal fast, anxious to get home as quickly as possible.

_Home._

God, I love that word.

Jasper and I wanted to start our relationship off in a home we could call 'ours'. Even though I'd slept in his bed every night, I had kept my room at the inn. It took us three long months to find the perfect four-bedroom house.

It'd taken Jasper an additional two months to get the cabinetry and moldings replaced in the house, tear down the dilapidated front deck to build a new one, convert one of the bedrooms into a home office, and redesign the basement into a music room, but the results were well worth the wait. It turned out beautifully – as expected. The home sits on eight acres, and has the oversized barn that Jasper requires for his carpentry business.

We moved in on Valentine's Day, and it's been two wonderful months that have seriously changed my life. I have to admit that it hasn't been _all_ fun and games. I hadn't lived with anyone since the dorms during my first year of college, and Jasper had lived alone even longer, so there were a few idiosyncrasies on both our parts that had to be dealt with. But for the most part, we fit into each other's lives perfectly – and it's been heavenly. Living in Bon Terre is amazing, but living here with Jasper – extraordinary.

My job is beyond fulfilling. The students love to play instruments, but they also love learning the history of music. The children's parents are interested in their progress, and foster their talent outside the classroom. I even have my students loving Jasper. He's shown up a few times to play the guitar for the kids, even teaching them a few riffs of their favorite songs.

_Jasper._

My man.

Jasper is the most caring, compassionate, horny, stubborn, beautiful man I have ever met. He's opened up so much, yet remains somewhat of a mystery to me. I tend to talk more than he does, but it works for us. He deals with my borderline OCD/ADD behavior – always listening to what I have to say, and always having input.

He's strong in his convictions, loyal to a fault, delivers on his promises, lives up to his own set a standards, and firmly believes in karma. He's more levelheaded and practical then I am, so even though we each have equal say, Jasper ultimately makes most of the final decisions for us – which I'm more than comfortable with.

We don't share feelings on a daily basis, but we're in love – there's no question about it. He tells me he loves me at exactly the right moments, but most of the time I can feel it in his touch. The way he holds me, caresses me…yeah, he totally worships me.

The feeling is mutual.

As far as PDA goes, Jasper and I don't flaunt our relationship – except, of course, when we're at Sinner's Island, which we visit a couple of times a month. Obviously there it's no holds barred. However, there's not a moment in town, or down at the docks, that I don't have my hand in his, or our hands in each other's back pocket. We don't need our tongues down each other's throats for the community to realize that Jasper stole the newbie's heart.

It's been strange going from a place where I was all but invisible, to a place where the entire town knows my name, what I do, and who I'm with. Some might find it annoying, and I do . . . …once in a while, but mostly, it's a refreshing change being noticed, and not ignored or disregarded. I just have this sense of belonging here, and it brings an inner peace – such that I've never known.

And I understand why the whole town adores Jasper. When Rosalie's friends fell on hard times, he patched their roof for free. He takes Harry, our elderly neighbor, to all his doctor's appointments, and when Siobhan, the owner of the local salon, called Jasper when her furnace broke, he dropped what he was doing to go fix it.

He's a pillar in the community, regardless of his orientation.

I smile every time I think of him and me together – a real couple.

A month after I moved to Bon Terre we both got tested.

Obviously, Jasper's the only guy I've ever been with, and it's been a long time since he's been with anyone, other than Jacob – who he'd always used protection with, but it's better to be safe than sorry. We received the last set of test results about three weeks ago – and it's like we're sixteen-years-old again. We can't seem to get enough of one another. I'd thought nothing could equate to the pleasure of having sex with Jasper, but going bareback…wow! Just thinking about Jasper's naked cock sliding into me gives me goose bumps, not to mention a throbbing hard-on.

_Shit._

I pedal slower, waiting for the erection to subside.

We've had discussions about me topping. Jasper wants me to try it; he thinks I'll like it – and I don't doubt I would, but _can_ _I satisfy him_ is the burning question.

I guess that's one area where my insecurity still lingers.

Jasper has a few toys that we both enjoy, so occasionally, when that particular desire takes over, I help him fulfill those needs. Sometimes I just know when he requires it – and he absolutely loves when I instigate these encounters. I fuck him with a dildo, while I stroke or suck his gorgeous cock. I've become really good at it, and watching his cum spill onto his chest does all sorts of things to me.

I don't know if he's trying to build my confidence – but it's working…in a big way. More and more, I want it to be my dick that makes him cum like that.

Jasper's said that he has no problem living without it, but somehow, I think it's more important to him than that. I want to be Jasper's everything – including being a top for him when necessary, but am I ready? He knows I'm apprehensive – the truth is, I haven't had luck as a top.

After being such a bitter disappointment to the few girls I've been with, it's hardly believable that I'd be able to satisfy someone as sexual, and experienced as Jasper. I know it's not the same thing, and I really can't compare my feelings for Jasper to the feelings I had for Bella or any of the other girls – there's simply no comparison between the two, but those old wounds still fester.

Now that my erection has deflated thinking about Bella I speed back up.

I have to get home to hear the news.

The bank investor came by today to take another look at Jasper's workshop and inventory. If he approves the loan we requested a few weeks ago, we'll be able to get that storefront property almost right in the middle of Main Street.

Even though Jasper is loved in the community, it isn't a forgone conclusion that we'll get the loan. The bank will definitely be taking a chance on us. My salary decreased drastically when I moved to Bon Terre, and our savings was depleted when we bought the house, and did the remodeling.

Pulling up to the front of our house, I notice an eerie calm. It doesn't help that a dark cloud looms above, drowning the entire house, and yard in dreariness.

The only sound is a half-hearted jingle coming from the chimes hanging off the front porch awning. If we'd gotten the loan wouldn't there be music and laughter? Birds singing? I don't know… angels dancing on the lawn – or something? Not…_nothing_.

It's deserted and…moody.

The only ray of light in this bleakness is Jasper's dirty truck in the driveway.

Dropping my bike at the porch steps, I barrel through the screen door. There are no lights on inside, and my heart fills with dread when I see Jasper sitting at the kitchen table, with his head in his hands.

_We didn't get it._

There's no hesitation – swiftly scrambling over to him, he barely has time to register I'm upon him before he's in my arms.

"It's alright, baby. There're other banks…bigger banks. There'll be other opportunities. I promise. We'll go to the city. We can do this…we _will_ do this. I love you."

I think he says he loves me too, but it's muffled.

"What?" I pull back, gazing into Jasper's smiling face.

"We got it," he whispers excitedly, "and I love you too."

_We got it? _

I'm stunned, and can't seem to move. Now I realize why Jasper had looked so disturbed when I came in – he's shocked too. This is big.

My mouth hangs open, unable to form words.

"We got it!" he exclaims much louder, picking me up, and spinning around, like in the movies when a couple gets good news.

And it feels like we're in a movie, because real life doesn't turn out this sweet.

Grasping his hair, I mold my lips to his. He stops twirling to put his complete self, heart and soul into the kiss, and I feel it down to the tips of my toes.

"Did you call Sandy?" I inquire, breaking away from his searching lips.

"Not yet," he responds, breathless.

Sandy is one of the few commercial real estate agents in Bon Terre. We'd quickly procured her services after we found out Mr. Harvey was closing his antique shop in town. Aging, with no kids to hand it down to, and not enough profits the last couple of years to make it worthwhile to continue, he'd decided enough was enough, and is retiring at the end of the month.

The property is hot – prime location, perfect size between showroom and backroom - we could lose it any day, if we don't act fast.

"Well, what're – _what are_…you waitin'…_waiting_ for?" I ask…but at the end I'm just a helpless mess of disillusion and annoyance.

It should've been a simple question.

To further my aggravation, Jasper's laughing at me. "I'm sorry," he says between chuckles, "You're so confused, darlin' – you should just give in," he informs, matter-of-factly. "Let it happen."

Blasphemy!

"Never!"

But back to the matter at hand: "Why haven't you finalized the offer? Wasn't she expectin' you ta call her today?"

"Ed…"

"We can't lose that place Jas. It's on the west side!" I start pacing. "I won't end up on the east side – they're all old. We'll never win the annual baseball tournament. They can't run…or catch, or swing, or slide – _they're all old_…" I repeat weakly – losing steam and hope.

Most of the town's annual competitions are made up of teams based on whether your business is located on the east or the west side of the lone traffic light located in the middle of Main Street.

We're going to end up on the east side – aka the "_least_ side" – because they win the least amount of trophies.

"I don't want to win the _least_. I want to win the most," I complain, repressing the urge to stomp my foot.

"Jesus Christ Ed, stop –," he laughs. "I was just waitin' on you. I want to do this together."

"Oh."

Well, that definitely takes the bite right out my tantrum.

Since I've learned to open up and stop hiding behind people, I'm finding out new things about myself. I think I might be a tad neurotic – and maybe slightly immature-ish, but Jasper deals well – maybe even adores it a bit, so...yeah. It is what it is.

"Shouldn't we do that now?"

"Well, the spaghetti's gonna get cold. Maybe we should eat first." My sniffer finally recognizes the aroma floating around the room, and it smells absolutely delicious.

So, now I'm torn, because I really want to win the most, but Jesus, that smells a little bit like heaven.

Sensing my dilemma, Jasper squeezes me tight. "We can call Sandy first."

He kisses me sweetly, whispering against my lips, "I like to win too."

XXXXX

After a spectacular dinner and a forced walk that we cut super short, Jasper and I stumble into the house, pulling at each other's shirts and belts, like the hormonal teenagers we've become.

We fumble to our bedroom, ditching clothes along the way. We can't stop touching, kissing, smiling…he even has me giggling when his fingertips skim my sides, where I'm most ticklish.

Once we reach the bed, I tackle him. Both falling back onto the mattress, I quickly straddle his waist.

He grips my hips, settling me directly over his engorged cock, and it feels so damn good, when I circle my hips over his rod, provoking a sensual moan from his sexy mouth.

For the moment, we're content to dry-hump, merely delighting in the sensations of rocking against each other, while feeding off one another's reactions.

I love the way the tendons in his neck strain, and the power of his sultry blue gaze. The way he stares back captivates me. I'm never able to completely define his gaze because it's such a contradiction; confident and vulnerable, strong and defenseless, experienced and raw, sure and frightened – all at the same time.

"You're amazin', y'know that? You're makin' all my dreams come true," he declares, in wonder.

And we're totally on the same page.

Things I'd previously never dared to dream are in my grasp, and I'm never letting go. It simply astounds me that he feels exactly the way I do – that maybe he cherishes me as much as I cherish him…that he could possibly love me, as ferociously as I love him.

"Your dreams are my dreams, Jasper. I-I…I want to make love to you." My admission surprises (petrifies) me. He smirks, but then it fades when he realizes what I'm actually offering.

"Ed-" He shakes his head. "No, you don't have ta do this. I told you, I can live without _that_. I meant it, darlin'."

"I want to…Please Jas - don't say 'no' when I've finally found the courage."

He reaches up, caressing my cheek. "Really?" I nod, nervously. His palms slide down my arms in a comforting gesture. "Just remember – you can back out at any time. Okay?"

Another nod.

"I haven't done this often – a dozen times or so, and it's been a long, long while since the last time," he advises, but to my ears it's a major warning.

"I don't want to hurt you, baby."

"You won't," he assures me. "We just have to make room for that massive cock of yours first, okay?" He reaches across the bed, grabbing the necessary supplies. Laying them on the bed next to me, he positions himself – giving me full access to his gorgeous dick, tush, and everything in between.

Taking myself in hand, I bend down, licking the span of Jasper's cock, from balls to head, then I spend a few seconds laving each nut, while I stroke his heavy length. It's when he begins fucking my hand that I know we have to stop.

Sitting back I look from the wonderful sight in front of me, to the supplies alongside us. It looks daunting, but I remind myself that this isn't a process, or a chore – it's part of making love, and we do it all the time.

I've stretched him before…just not for me.

Here goes nothing…

I snatch the unscented lube, squeezing a generous dollop onto my fingers. Once, Jasper had accidentally purchased strawberry scented/flavored lube, and it actually smelled really nice, but I fucking love the smell of sex and I hated that the lube covered up the aroma of our lovemaking. He threw out the rest of the tube that night, and promised never to make that mistake again.

My hand quivers I hold the bottle over him, squeezing more than enough down his ass crack. I think I just consumed half the bottle, but I'm almost sure I bought stock in it last month – so it seems that would make me an attentive partner _and_ a responsible shareholder; maximizing comfort and dividends – _two birds, one stone_.

"Are ya gonna do something Ed? It's drippin' down my back."

_Oh yeah._

The first two fingers go in without incident…and in the past, this is where I usually stop, but he's asking for another.

And now, fear sets in and I don't know if I can go through with it. _I don't want to lose him over this_. It's an irrational, and completely ridiculous thought, but I feel it all the same.

I'm hesitant, and the third is a tight fit. I have to work at it gradually, thrusting while I push in a little further each time. Once completely in, I twist my fingers, barely spreading them, trying in vain to loosen him up.

"I'm ready," he pants.

_What if I'm not?_

"You're gonna be so good. I can't wait to feel you inside me…please," he states, as if reading my thoughts, and knowing exactly what I need to hear.

It's now or never.

After several leg switching moments, I figure out how I want to do this. I line up, completely certain this is going to be the worst fucking mistake I've ever made.

My dick must be avoiding my thoughts, because it's playing along – hard and glistening with a mix of lube, precum and…heat (sweat). How can it be so hot in here?

_Don't pass out. Don't pass out._ Oh my God –

"Dammit Ed, _stop thinkin'_. Just do it, honey…like Nike." He only calls me 'honey' when he's frustrated and trying to remain civil, but I really like Nike, so I don't give him the stink eye for patronizing me.

Maybe I'll give him shit later.

Instead I poke him in the hole, watching every nuance of his expression for any signs of regret – because if he really wanted to back out I'd totally stop for him, but he moans in that ultra-sexy way, encouraging me to push a little further.

Once I'm halfway in, my hips move in small thrusts which grow in size as his walls relax around me. It's so hot, tight…_damn_…slick, but that's not what does me in.

It's the pulsing around me – the gentle throbbing that's going to cause me to ejaculate prematurely.

"No, no, no! I gotta stop. I'm-I'm gonna cum."

"C'mere Edward. Kiss me…" he demands. I lean forward, granting his wish. Our wet mouths slide together in a sloppy kiss, and with his legs wrapped around my waist, I find myself buried impossibly deeper inside him – which does not help my problem.

Giving in to the torment, I pull away, pushing…thrusting, searching for that bliss, until Jasper groans – gaining my full attention.

His eyes are pinched shut, his hands are bunched into fists…

_He's in pain_. _I'm hurting him._

All thoughts of orgasm are dead.

I knew I'd suck at this.

Looking down I see that Jasper's cock has shriveled – exactly like my confidence and ego.

"Keep goin'. You're doin' fine darlin'. Just slow down for a minute - you're a lot bigger than Oscar, and I have ta adjust." Oscar is his favorite dildo. It's named after a Sesame Street character, because it's green, and all of our toys are housed in a miniature silver trashcan. Oscar is probably just as long as I am, but definitely doesn't have the girth that I do.

My dick has softened drastically, making it harder and harder to stay in Jasper's tight tunnel. My will to continue is diminishing rapidly, and I just want him to flip me over and fuck me until I forget about this entire experience.

"Don't give up, please. I want this. See…look – look how hard you make me…" I peek back down to see that his cock has indeed once again sprung to life. "I love… _oh shit_. Mm, yeah…move like that. Fuck yeah…"

I'd been rocking back and forth, trying to retain my position inside of him. Apparently, while I'd been berating myself, he'd been having a good time. Seeing his pleasure causes my dick to twitch, and expand.

With renewed vigor I try once again, this time focusing solely on Jasper's needs, but it's extremely difficult to remain cognizant when Jasper is writhing and groaning – drowning in pleasure. I mean, he's always enjoyed our toys but – _nothing_ like this.

His cock is dripping, stomach is clenched, he's mumbling incoherently, and I just want to get him there.

I pepper his jaw with light kisses until he moans my name.

I suck along his collarbone until he bucks up underneath me.

I bite his nipple until he begs me to go faster.

He watches me with burning eyes, as I reposition us. Hauling one of his legs against my shoulder, I prepare to plow into him.

"You look so beautiful with your dick in my ass. Fuck my hole, Ed – show me how much you fuckin' want me," he commands.

Searching for any reservations or deceit, I only see passion, trust and love.

_Jesus Christ._

I stare down at this glorious man; the mass of blond waves covering the pillow, the beads of sweat accumulating on his upper lip, the sexy five-o'clock shadow, his blushing chest, and his beautiful rod hovering stiffly over his abdomen, quaking with each thrust.

He's magnificent.

He also looks ready to burst, and by the telltale whimpers emanating from him I'd say that assumption is quite accurate.

With one final mewl, he reaches for his dick.

"No, let me, baby. I want to take care of you," I pant, pulling his hand away from his length, to replace it with my own.

The second I touch him, he cries out. His head pushing back into the pillow, he mangles the bed sheets in his fists. "Fuck me…fuck me hard…Now!"

I slam into him, cursing when I feel my own orgasm forthcoming.

I want this to be about him.

These past months, I've learned to tame my animalistic side, but now, I find myself in the midst of those last fleeting moments, when the world washes away and rationality flees, left with only my base self – the part of me that isn't considerate and giving. It's the part that knows only to mate and find relief.

I'm fighting those instincts; trying not to chase down, what is already mine.

Losing my mind, and feeling like I can no longer withstand the euphoria banging on my door, Jasper clenches around me. I watch with rabid attention while his cock swells in my hand, releasing the biggest load I've ever seen, endlessly pouring from his cock in globs of creamy bliss.

For his benefit, I deliberately slow my thrusts – foolishly thinking I can maintain control, while Jasper spasms around me…but damn his dirty mouth.

"Best I ever had –" he comments breathlessly, recovering from his climax. Watching me, he swaps our hands, wringing the last of his cum from his shaft. "Next time I'm gonna climb on top, and ride that piece of heaven while you fuck up into me. Would you like that?"

A grunt is all I can supply, resuming my swift pace.

"Did ya like fuckin' me into the mattress?...I did. Can ya tell?" he asks, dipping his fingertips in one of the puddles of cum lying on his chest.

His seductive words, the tightness, the heat, and his slick body under mine, is a siren calling me home. My dick hardens – seizes, and before I can utter a word, I'm exploding inside my man.

Falling into an abyss of decadent rapture, I grab ahold – stretching each mind-numbing wave for as long as it will carry me – and roll after roll, I'm tumbling, throbbing, purging.

Never, ever…so good…

Depleted, I lay over him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. I don't know how long we lie motionless, but I swear I could stay in this position forever.

Despite our pounding hearts, Jasper looks serene. Eyes closed, he smiles, big and happy, relaxed and sated.

When he opens his eyes, they're light and playful. "Are you trying to convert me Edward?" he teases, but I take it seriously because, God help me, I want to do this again.

"No way…but I _do_ want to do it again," I admit.

When I pull out of Jasper, he hisses and his face crunches up – reminding me of how I'd hurt him. "I'm so sorry, about the beginning…" I apologize, feeling like a total ass.

"It was a little rough in the beginnin', but you did great for your first time… and you definitely made up for it in the end," he says, convincingly. Pushing me away slightly, he motions downward. "When have you ever seen me make a mess like that?"

"Never," I reply, shyly, staring at the substantial stickiness between us.

"Besides, I'm lookin' forward to being a little sore…now clean me up. Your jizz is soakin' the bed."

I hand him a tissue to prevent more leakage, while I tumble out of bed to retrieve a wash cloth. "So, how long do we have to wait before I can do that again?" I inquire, practically strutting once I find my legs.

He swears, muttering something about being insatiable – and that I have a nice ass.

Yeah… _I'm_ insatiable – _snort._

XXXXX

_Stay Still_ By Edward M. Cullen

_Jeremy saunters confidently into the local saloon, his black Stetson sitting low and surreptitious on his brow. Every eye falls upon his wiry frame when he saddles up the bar, propping one foot on the bottom rung of the barstool, while the other long, muscular leg stretches out in front of him. He orders a whiskey straight, and after several slow minutes, removes his hat, letting everyone catch their first glimpse of the new Sherriff in town..._

_Except Jeremy isn't the new Sheriff in town – that was eons ago – now, he's just a lonely guy, searching for a decent job and a place to hang is hat._

"_Pardon me. I'm new in town, lookin' for a job. Do you have anything available?"_

_The two bar owners look up, neither speaking right away. The man stares at Jeremy for several tense moments, looking him up and down with no discernible emotion._

"_I don't know," he says slowly. "Are you just a passer-by, or are you staying?"_

"_I'm stayin'," Jeremy answers, in a deceptively strong voice._

"_Even if I don't want you to?" Tony's words are barely audible, but the damage is devastating to Jeremy._

"_Do you want me to leave?" he whispers, pleading with his eyes for Tony to say "no"._

_Instead Tony evades the question with one of his own. "Why are you here?"_

_Jeremy's tired – tired of a lot of things, but mostly tired of trying to make things work without Tony._

_He's come to fix this, no matter what it takes._

"_I miss my best friends." Jeremy glances at Maria, who is wiping tears from her cheeks, then back at Tony. His eyes blur when he looks at the man – blurred by the pain, and the longing, and the tired._

"_But most of all I miss what we never had. I love you, and you may, or may not believe that, but I want a chance to prove it to you. Please?" Jeremy cracks on the last word, allowing someone to see how truly broken he is. _

_Tony hesitates only slightly, before Jeremy is crushed in his arms. And finally, the tears fall, cleansing him of months of self-induced torment._

_He should've come after Tony sooner, when he'd accepted that he'd lost the other half of his soul in that close-minded town, four torturous months ago. He'd always known where Tony was – using his resources at the Sherriff's office to keep tabs on him, but he'd convinced himself that Tony was starting a new life, and should leave him be._

_But Jeremy had been so wrong._

_Feeling Tony's rampant heart beat against his chest confirms just how wrong he'd been. Being encased in his warm embrace is the closest Jeremy's felt to home in years, and there's nowhere else he would rather be._

_He's no fool. Jeremy knows it isn't going to be seamless – that there's plenty of mending to be done. They won't be able to begin where they left off, almost a year ago – before Victoria had destroyed so many lives, but when Tony pulls back and tentatively touches his soft lips to Jeremy's for the first time, Jeremy realizes that he doesn't want to start where they left off, he wants to start over – just like this._

_The End_

XXXXX

"The end," I read.

Closing the laptop, and setting it aside, I search for Jasper's final reaction to my very first writing endeavor.

He looks contemplative, soaking it all in.

_Stay Still_ had been published online, a month ago, and since then we've been reading one chapter a night. It's been fascinating hearing his interpretations and observations after each chapter. He'd changed his mind about the killer at least three times before he'd finally discovered it was Victoria, two days ago.

"That was really clever, repeatin' the first lines of the story in the last chapter," he comments.

It thrills me to no end that he recognized the first paragraph of the story when we'd read it over three weeks ago.

"So what do ya _really_ think?"

"It's a masterpiece darlin' – could've been a bestseller it you'd made Jeremy fall in love with Maria instead of her brother."

Well, I don't know about all that, but I _am_ sure _he_ thinks so.

"I wrote this when I was fallin' in love with you. It helped me figure things out," I answer, simply.

Actually, the story is wildly popular, even making a few top ten lists, but it's true that I don't make a ton of cash from it. It's never been about the money, really – it was more about a release when I'd desperately been searching for relief from the stresses of real life.

The fact is; I just don't need that escape anymore.

Maybe in a couple years, when life settles down, I'll start a new story – but for right now, I'm having too much fun.

"So I was lookin' forward to some of those…'melons' though," he says, cheeks reddening.

_Melons? Oh…_

"Lemons, baby. They're called lemons," I correct, while straddling his hips. "But why would you want me to read one to ya, when I can show ya instead?"

"Why, indeed," he responds, pulling at the strings of my sleep pants.

XXXXX

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I rue my own suggestion of having our grand opening the week school let out for the summer. The middle of June…seriously, what was I thinking?

"God Jas, do we got the air on? It's hotter than fuck in here," I ask, a tad testily…okay – more than a tad, but there's a lot of pressure here.

The whole town is standing outside our window, waiting for us to open the doors. Among the mass is Rosalie and Emmett, Seth, Jasper's parents, and Alice who's holding Cain, Rosalie and Emmett's three month old baby.

"Um, why're Rose and Em standin' outside, again? We could use some help in here," I say – furiously dusting every surface and straightening products on the shelf for the umpteenth time.

If I stop, I fidget – which isn't productive at all. Dusting and straightening is better – it's productive.

"What the hell? Didn't we hire someone? Where is she? Shouldn't she be here right now?"

No response.

Turning, I find Jasper standing a few feet away, hands in pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, in some sort of daze.

"Earth to Jas!" I shout.

"Ed – darlin', calm down. Everything's perfect," he says, snapping out of his trance.

"Calm down? We just turned our website on yesterday and we already have three on-line orders. Look at it outside…it's a freakin' madhouse." It hits me. "Oh my god," I whisper, "how're we gonna do all this?"

He clasps onto my shoulders, rubbing firmly up and down my arms, before capturing both my hands in his.

"Relax…the air _is_ on, we _do_ have employees, Rose and Em _are_ here to help – and there's _absolutely _nothing that we can't accomplish." Did I how forget perfect we are for each other? "I-I just want to start this off right…" he trails off, with a shrug.

He huffs…and my breath stutters – because Jasper gets down on one knee.

I hear a high-pitched shriek outside, and I smile, but my gaze stays on Jasper – always on Jasper. He rolls his eyes, smiling at the commotion outside, but his eyes are glued to mine.

He becomes somber, staring at me for a long time.

Too long…

"Yes!" I blurt, excitedly. He frowns, looking chagrined.

He was going to ask me to marry him…

I think…_ shit_.

I look down to make sure my shoelaces hadn't come untied…

"Jesus, darlin'…let me ask first," he admonishes, but I'm overjoyed because I wasn't wrong. _Phew._

He clears his throat while pulling a small, black box out of his pocket. "You're my hero. Without you I'd be nothin' – I'd have nothin', because none of this means anything without you. I love you…so much. We've talked about 'forever', so let's start right now – before we open those doors…" He opens the box, inside is a beautiful platinum band. "Be my forever…, please?"

Now, there's a ton of noise coming from outsidesome kind of chant, but it's muddled and I can't make out what they're saying – but who cares, really? My man's on his knee.

"Yes," I squeal, overdosing on a combination of giddy and nervous. I just got engaged in front of the whole frickin' town.

He quickly places the ring on my shaky finger, and we hug – both of us laughing and teary.

Hoots and hollers, and banging on the windows, threaten to shake all the merchandise from the shelves and ruin all my handiwork. "Okay, okay, people, we're coming – _for Christ sakes_," I hiss in mock exasperation, when I'm actually just too happy for words.

With his hand on top of mine, we turn the lock for the first time together.

As people file in there are plenty of hugs and congratulations – for the store opening, as well as for the scene they'd witnessed.

The day is beyond successful. Jasper is an amazing craftsman, and people eat up our offerings – buying stock and placing special orders for a piece of his brilliance.

Emmett is helping load the bigger pieces into pick ups and U-hauls. Alice is schmoozing potential buyers. Rosalie is managing the refreshment table, and Angela, our new employee, is a pro, assisting with taking money, and wrapping delicate items.

I have a feeling she's going to work out real well.

I stand back from the chaos, holding my nephew. With a small smile, I watch Jasper behind the register of a very long line of patrons fishing out their pocketbooks.

Looks like we're going to have to completely restock the place after today. By the time Peter and Embry get here, there won't be anything left. I guess that means we'll be putting them to work too, but that's what family is for.

Peter is going to be pissed he missed Jasper's proposal. Maybe it'll be his turn to feel Peter's right hook. Yeah, he got me good, but I deserved it.

Thankfully, once Peter got that out of his system, he hugged me for a really long time. Now, we're just really good friends.

Jasper finishes up with his current customer, looking up and around until his gaze lands on me. I mouth an 'I love you'…he smiles and winks, taking the next customer in line, who happens to be Garrett.

On top of the fucking world, I marvel at my ring, then at the squirming baby boy in my arms. "Ah Cain, You don't know who Poe is yet, but he once said 'the ninety and nine are with dreams, content – but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true'."

Looking through the store, at my family, friends – Jasper, I kiss my nephew's pudgy cheek, placing one little hand over my heart. "I know you won't remember what I just said, but I'll be here to remind you everyday to always be that hundredth man, Cain. Lay the world at your feet – so you can feel…_ this_."

XXXXX

**Two months later**

The backyard of the Stormy Haven Inn is amazing every day of the week, but today…wow.

When Jasper asked me where I wanted to have the commitment ceremony I could think of no other place. It was also my idea to have the service a couple weeks before school started so we could have a proper honeymoon, which I'd done all the planning for.

I couldn't wait to surprise him with our trip to Tahiti tonight.

But this – this is a wonderful surprise.

Jasper wanted full responsibility for decorating, and the scene he created is absolutely breathtaking.

Thousands upon thousands of white lights hang low from the branches on every surrounding tree, a number of white wooden chairs are lined up on both sides of a path littered with white flower pedals, and at the end of that path are hundreds of white roses. Everything else was left as is, and the contrast between the natural murky darkness I'd become accustomed to and the clean white accents is simply stunning.

Jasper is talking to Embry, who'd offered to officiate, at the base of the large oak tree where our relationship basically all began.

We'd decided to only invite close family and friends to the ceremony. Seth and Garrett are here, but we'd agreed to have an additional celebration at the island when we get back from our honeymoon, for the rest of our friends.

I smile at mom and dad, sitting awkwardly in the back. They're not completely comfortable with the changes in my life, but they're here, and right now, I'm okay with that.

Sifting through guests, I'm trying to get to Jasper, but I stop short, a few feet away from him, paralyzed with shock and terror…

Carved into 'our' tree, once again, is the letters 'J' and 'E', in the same beautiful script I'd saw embedded in the tree a year ago, before the wind had swept them away.

Another mirage. I inch closer…_my God, it looks so real_.

"Do you like it, darlin'?"

"Huh?"

He inclines his head toward the tree. _It is real_. He did this?

"How- how did you know?" I ask, my voice shaking.

"Know what?" He seems genuinely confused.

Snapping out of my stupor, I paste a smile on my face. I'd thought it was just a product of my overactive imagination, and that there was no need to mention it to Jasper – but this is not a coincidence. I know I have to talk to Jasper about it, but now is not the time.

"That I'd love it, baby. It's _perfect_," I say, truthfully.

He exhales a gush of air, as if he'd been worried I wouldn't like it.

He kisses my cheek. "I'll be right back, I have ta talk to ma for a minute."

"Sure," I say, offhandedly, still staring at the engraving.

Once he's left, I cautiously raise a trembling hand, to trace the letters – making sure they are, in fact, real this time.

One touch and I'm immediately drawn into a new vision of a gorgeous summer day with two small children passing before my eyes – a small boy with brown hair and brown eyes, sits on soft patch of grass holding his hand out in front of him, palm up, and a young girl with blond ringlets and blue eyes, crouched behind the boy, with her arm around his shoulders, in a clearly protective manner. I don't know what they're doing, or who they are, but the level of warmth and love that washes over me while I observe them shakes me to my very core.

I pull my hand back with a gasp, gripping it in my other, as if it had been burned.

Jasper places a hand on my shoulder, obliviously happy. "It's time, darlin'."

And it's under the mystical tree, while Jasper and I repeat vows similar to a more traditional ceremony… love and cherish… in sickness and in health… that it occurs to me. I hadn't been lucky to find Jasper at all – we hadn't met by chance.

There was never any choice in the matter.

It'd been written in the stars all along.

* * *

><p>AN: NOTHING has been revealed yet – all answers to come in the next chapter.<p>

Outtakes? Want any? A few reviewers mentioned they'd like to see Edward visiting Peter after him and Jas got back together, or the two running into Alec, or a Seth/Garrett outtake of when Seth was taking care of Jasper, or some extra fun on the island. I was not planning on doing any outtakes for this story, but if there is a scene in popular demand I will definitely consider it. I'll decide by the next chapter and let you know in the update if we are truly done with these boys.

Due to so much being revealed next chapter, there's no teaser. I'm hoping to still hear from you all though.

Thanks so much for the support.

Deb


	17. Chapter 17

Leckadams – I finally delivered on that promise I made you two years ago. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.

I had planned for a huge sappy author's note but decided against it. So, I just simply want to thank everyone for taking this journey with me. It's been a pleasure.

I didn't want to get sappy but apparently my beta, Layne Faire wants to be. She warned me not to delete this message that she wrote for me:

BETA NOTE: Last fall, someone posted a link to the first chapter of what has become _Sinner's Island, _mentioning it was a great new story, but in need of a beta. Little did I know then the gift I would receive by offering to help out Deb with her flight of fantasy. Not only did I get an advance peek at every chapter of an amazing tale, I also acquired a new friend – one I will cherish long after others have forgotten where it all began. Thank you so much, Deb, for taking a chance on sharing your story with someone you didn't know, for allowing me to hone my editing skills on your words, and for being a willing shoulder, helping hand, and caring heart, while my family has gone through so much this year. My MaraBeth can't wait to read about yours. (Thank you so much Laura!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.

* * *

><p>Epilogue 2 of 2<p>

**10 years later **

"Billy, can you help Jas load the headboard for the Johnsons?"

The lanky eighteen-year-old nods, scurrying toward the backroom, while eying the child sitting on the counter warily as he passes her by.

It's sad that this is the last week Billy will be helping at the store. In two weeks he'll be on his way to LSU to start college. _Damn, but time flies_.

And all we've heard him talking about this summer is moving to the dorms and meeting all the big city girls, which just makes Amanda fighting mad.

She's got a bug in her brain that she's gonna marry Billy one day.

In fact, two minutes ago Amanda was just telling the boy so – for the hundredth time. Billy just graced her with that dimpled smile she loves so much, and ruffled her blond curls. "Mandy, you're eight. Your daddies would have my hide if I tried to date ya."

"But Daddy says I'm a lady now," she'd insisted, looking to me for clarification.

I'd just shaken my head and sighed. I tell her that all right – at least ten times a day, but for the life of me I wish she'd remember the other half of the sentence. _You're a little lady now…and you need to start actin' like one. _

Our daughter Amanda is a firecracker, and a tomboy to be certain. She's near perfect with an arrow, climbs trees faster than a chipmunk, and plays baseball with all the boys…_'cause girls are wimps, Daddy_.

She's been following Billy around more than ever lately, knowing he'll be leaving soon. And as much as I love that boy, I can't wait to see him go…for Amanda's sake.

She jumps down from the counter primed to follow Billy to the backroom. "Mandy, give it a rest, _please_," I beg.

"But, Daddy!" she declares, with petulant flair.

"Do you remember what we talked about, sugar?" I attempt reason, and thankfully she seems to cooperate. She pouts, but remains near the counter.

I don't know how many times Jasper and I have put her crying self to bed the last couple of weeks. We've tried explaining to her that Billy's too old for her – that she'll find another boy – many other boys no doubt, but nothing's been working.

Listening to her soft cries, I stare at the clock in anticipation. Three o'clock can't get here soon enough.

Normally, I'm not needed in the store. Jasper, Angela, and our four other employees usually have it covered, but today is different…_special_. I'm not required to be in the classroom for another month, and I suspect I'll be needed around here until then.

In preparation for working the rest of the summer at the store, I've spent the last few weeks fine-tuning my lesson plans for the coming school year. After ten years of teaching children at the elementary school, I still like to challenge the kids and myself in class.

It's imperative to not only coach them on playing the instruments and educating them on the history, but also for me to be knowledgeable on what's popular now. I keep the students interested by teaching them their favorite band's riffs, writing song lyrics, and even have fun with the art of performing on stage. And while lessons are being taught, music is constantly playing in the background – from different genres and time periods. Music hasn't changed much since I was their age – maybe just a little harder, but music is music and I love it all. I can't stress to my pupils enough the importance of staying in touch with music – not falling behind and letting it grow without you.

Yep, I still have passion for what I do.

None of my students have earned a seat in an orchestra or symphony, and though a few have successfully formed their own bands, they haven't won any awards. _However,_ Bon Terre elementary _has_ taken the Bonnefoy County Music Appreciation trophy six years running and we won't be giving that up any time soon.

Jasper and Billy barrel their way through the backroom door hefting the Johnsons' newest piece – a headboard with a stormy seascape carved into the cherry wood.

Our boy Chase is not far behind – always following in his papa's footsteps.

Jasper turns his head before he lowers the headboard for customer inspection, cognizant that his son is sure to be trailing somewhere behind him. I pull Chase out of the way, and the five-year-old unconsciously grabs my hand, taking in the scene around him.

While Amanda is rambunctious and outspoken, her younger brother is more quiet and contemplative. He's a happy boy, and extremely intelligent for his age. Chase tested out of kindergarten this year, after they realized that he was socially adept, and had already fulfilled the objectives of the class. Instead he moved right into first grade, where he's fit in perfectly.

With the ability to be content and satisfied just doing what others want, it makes him the ideal candidate for children's playmate. However, Amanda takes it upon herself to hang around, making sure the other children aren't unfairly taking advantage of Chase's ready compliance and good nature – even if it isn't really necessary. She just can't understand his carefree attitude and passivity, when she constantly has to be running the show.

The Johnsons gasp while they peruse the exquisite piece – the scenes Jasper creates always draw awestruck reactions. To this day, the detail in Jasper's work never ceases to take my own breath away. This time, it's a lighthouse beaming rays of hope down on a small ship having difficulty forging through waves of a roughened sea.

This piece is achingly soulful, evoking several emotions from the observer. I often wonder what Jasper sees in his mind when he creates art such as this – where he gets the inspiration to exude so much passion and feeling that shines through in each piece – but it seems to personal for me to ask.

"You have a wonderful gift, young man," Mrs. Johnson praises. The quality of Jasper's work is beyond compare, which is why it's in high demand. The last I checked, it was a year's wait for anything custom made.

"Thank you much, Millie," Jasper says, with a demure smile and bright red cheeks. "Let's load her up."

I grasp harder when I feel Chase's grip wane, automatically wanting to follow Jasper out the front door. "He'll be right back," I assure him. He smiles, hugging my leg.

Staring at the cash register, I attempt to recall how the damn machine works again. I smile tentatively at Mrs. Johnson, acting confident and such, while I start to press buttons.

Luckily, it works and she pays by check, so I'm not forced to remember how to use the credit card machine, too. Angela usually takes care of these transactions, but she happens to be in the hospital right now…preparing to deliver our third child.

After we hired her for the store, I'd suspected that Angela was gonna work out great, but I hadn't realized just how well – and how integral her part in our lives would be.

After a year of employment, she'd offered to be a surrogate for us. It was a shock, for sure. Jasper and I had just started discussing adoption – never did we think having a child of our own flesh and blood was an option for us.

She already had a two year-old son with her husband Ben when she offered, and they weren't planning on having another one any time soon. We thought about it long and hard. It took us six months to finally tell her that we'd be forever grateful if she'd carry our child.

Jasper gave of himself first, and with that, Amanda was born. My contribution came two years later with the birth of Chase.

Angela and Ben had one more of their own after Chase, and then Angela offered one final time. She'd never shown any signs of regretting what she's done for us, so we found we couldn't pass up her offer once again. This time around, we both gave a sample, not caring who ended up the biological father.

We'd both witnessed the birth of Amanda and Chase, but the doctor advised Angela that due to her age and the precarious position of the baby she'd need a c-section, so we'd decided to give her and Ben privacy.

The surgery is scheduled for three o'clock, and I can't wait to meet our new little one.

The chime rings on the front door indicating Jasper and Billy's return. Immediately, Chase lets go of my leg and runs to his papa. Jasper picks him up and starts munching noisily on his neck, causing the little boy to squirm and burst into a fit of giggles.

"Aren't you in a playful mood?" I tease, watching when his blue eyes meet mine. Heat, love, excitement…and longing. He reveals in his eyes, what he doesn't say in words.

I know he's already longing for the nights we'll be too tired to acknowledge each other in bed – weeks of unwanted celibacy, while we acclimate to having another baby in our lives. Sure, we'll get a quickie in now and then, but our sex-life will definitely be suspended while we reacquaint ourselves with caring for an infant once again.

Setting Chase on the counter next to me, Jasper pulls me into his arms, kissing and nibbling at my lips until I open up to him. It's not long enough – this tender kiss, but it's effective, my cock swelling in response to his sexy mouth. He feels my reaction against his leg, moaning low enough for only my ears.

"Hey guys, wanna see the bar stools I built for Miss Margie and Mr. Dale?" Billy asks.

In no time Mandy is at his heels – jumping at the chance to hold Billy's hand while they wait for Chase to catch up.

But Chase sits indifferently, requiring more persuasion. "C'mon Chase, I'll even show you what your papa's been working on."

This spikes his attention – his brown eyes go wide and round. "Papa, help me down," he insists. Jasper releases me long enough to set the boy down, both of us watching while they scamper into the backroom.

Once the door shuts behind them I reassert myself.

"I love you, baby," I murmur. The innocent kiss from just moment's ago picks up where it left off, except without our children watching, it quickly becomes deeper… more aggressive. While our hands roam over each other's body, my palm presses against the front of his jeans, surprised to find him hard as steel…again.

We'd just had sex this morning – just a few hours ago.

Pausing the kiss, he runs the pad of his thumb across my throbbing lips, "Why does it still shock you that I can get a boner just by lookin' at your gorgeous face?"

"You still think I'm gorgeous?" I fish.

"More than ever, darlin'," he confesses, fiercely, leaving no doubt to his honesty.

"Jaaasss…" Now, it's my turn to attack him. While my tongue plunders his mouth, hands are out of control, and our bodies grind, undulating against one another in need. It's like we haven't seen each other for months – there's still so much fucking passion between us, it's enough to make my head spin.

Stopping is downright torture, but I let Jasper bring the kiss to a premature ending, knowing there's no way we'll be able to finish what we start.

"I'll never get enough of you," he whispers, our foreheads meeting while we catch our breaths, and wait for the fire to cool in our pants.

"Are we still goin' to Rose and Em's for dinner?" I pant.

"Yeah," Jasper answers breathlessly.

"But tonight…y'know…no games or small talk? We're goin' home right after we eat…right?"

"Yeah," he repeats.

Knowing there is relief in the near future we allow precious moments to tick by while we revel in the simple intimacy of a comfortable embrace.

"So, are ya ready to do this all over again?" I ask, thinking that I'd love to have added another coat of paint to the baby's room if we'd had more time.

"Do we have a choice?" he asks stonily, but his eyes belie his seriousness – bright with excitement and joy. Jasper's surprisingly great with babies, and is looking forward to taking care of one again.

It's worked out really well for us, too. With Jasper being more of a night person, and me a morning, we have built a routine that flows brilliantly.

I get the kids up and dressed. I prepare their lunches, make sure their book bags are loaded, and after they jump in our bed to give Jasper a kiss goodbye, we all pile in the car for school.

Generally, Jasper takes care of the kids in the evening. While I'm in my office grading papers, and altering lesson plans, he prepares dinner, gives them baths, and helps them with their schoolwork. I try to finish early, so I can play a game with Amanda or laze about with them, but usually I surface when they're winding down before bed.

Most likely, I'll find all three of them in their pajamas in front of the TV. Mandy will be sprawled out on the floor, way too close to the television, watching Nickelodeon or the Disney channel, while Chase sits on his Papa's lap, cuddling and conversing quietly together.

When Chase was an infant he had a horrible case of colic. Jasper spent most nights in the rocking chair, trying to get the poor baby to sleep. It must have been then that this inexplicable bond they have was created. Jasper spends a great deal of time with Chase, showering him with much love and attention, but he says it's merely because Chase requires it more than Amanda. I very rarely ever see Amanda on her papa's lap, but it's simply because she doesn't want to. She's always been independent and strong-willed, preferring to do things on her own. But when Amanda gets hurt, needs something, or is just looking for a playmate she doesn't hesitate – coming to both of us equally.

Amanda's not jealous of the time Jasper spends with Chase, because when she needs him he's always there for her. And neither am I. I know Chase loves me completely, so it doesn't hurt that most of the time he prefers Jasper's attention to mine.

I guess it really shouldn't be a surprise. I love Jasper with everything in me. I swear it's in my blood and in my genes, so it seems only natural that my son would inherit that trait too.

Hearing the kids chatting away, we reluctantly split apart, but before I can separate from him completely he brushes a few strands of hair off my forehead, kissing the exposed skin. One hot stare later, he repeats on a fervent whisper, "more than ever" before pulling away.

Maybe he was only talking to himself, but I understood.

He loves me – _more than ever_.

_Ditto, baby._

After eleven years, I'm still hopelessly, madly in love with the man.

We've had our fights, and some pretty nasty ones at that, especially right after we'd moved in together. With my penchant for not being able to let anything go, and Jasper's desire to leave when the going gets tough, things got blown out of proportion many times. Our fights escalated to name calling and bitter words, right before Jasper would stomp out the door with no telling when he would be back. Often, he'd come home after a couple of hours, but other nights I'd slept alone while he'd stayed at Rosalie's.

Thankfully, our love always prevailed.

Over time, I've learned to pick my battles and Jasper has quit taking off. We've learned to talk it out the best we can, compromise, and after two children, work out our disagreements civilly and quietly in the privacy of our bedroom.

Sometimes we still go to bed mad, but I can't remember a time when we've woken up that way. At some point during the night, we unconsciously search for each other, clinging tight, and if the fight's real bad, we'll whisper words of 'love' and 'forever' – reminding each other of how deep we're both into this.

Truthfully, our sex life has suffered since we've had kids. We don't get the opportunity to make love as much as we used to, but on the flip side, all of the old insecurities are gone. When Jasper stares a little too long at another guy out on the island I don't worry about it – because I'm the one he's gonna dance with, kiss…love forever.

I'm still 'it' for him, and he's everything to me.

Not that men haven't tried to break that bond.

I'd stupidly thought that maybe Jacob and I would have a truce of sorts after he brought me to the island that night to win Jasper back, but our relationship never improved. Our rings didn't even stop the bastard from constantly trying to get Jasper to go to the back with him.

And Jasper! God, he frustrated me to no end, because he'd always go easy on him, trying to let Jacob down gently. It finally came to a head one night when Jacob had grabbed Jasper's hand right after we'd almost jacked each other off on the dance floor, asking if he could help relieve the raging boner Jasper was sporting. I could tell that Jasper was gonna lay into him, but I'd reached my breaking point and punched the asshole in the nose.

A couple of the guys had to split us up, including Jasper. I thought he'd be mad at me for interfering and not letting him handle the situation, but he wasn't – opposite actually – it made him hotter than hell. We hadn't even made it the bedroom that night. We were spilling our loads, with me bent over the sofa, jeans wrapped around our thighs.

In the months following that incident, Jacob would lead any poor sap to the back that hadn't felt the sting of his callousness. A year or so later, he found a new job with a shipping company, and left for other parts.

I wasn't sorry to see him go.

The oversized storeroom doors open with a bang, Billy, Amanda and Chase bounding merrily through the opening.

Chase stops to study a small wooden treasure chest in the corner before he absently makes his way over to us. I'm about to ask him about it, but Jasper unknowingly interrupts me.

"You ready to go?" Jasper asks. It's almost two o'clock, and we've got an hour's drive to the hospital. Angela's doctor used work in a clinic right outside of Bon Terre, but he'd relocated last year to a much bigger hospital, one with cutting edge technology.

We let Billy close up shop while we all pile into my new SUV. We'd just purchased it a few months back, since my Volvo wouldn't be room enough for three kids, and a dog.

We don't have the dog yet, but Jasper had finally convinced me that no child – without an allergy affliction – should grow up without a pet.

Mr. Lattimore is breeding a brand new litter of pugs, and Jasper and I'd decided to adopt one as soon as they were ready to be separated from their mama. The kids have no idea, and we're hoping the pup will be set to come home by Christmas.

Buckling my little boy in, Chase leans over and kisses me on the nose. I give him a peck back, and then a sloppy kiss on his cheek in return. He smiles, humming happily.

Reaching over him, I check Amanda's buckle. She just pats me on the head – like I'm a good boy.

"Smarty pants," I accuse.

She giggles.

XXXXX

We've cut it close for time, and the hospital proves to be a massive structure. I'm trying to give Jasper the instructions that Angela wrote down for me, but we can't find any street signs. Finally, we call Rosalie and she navigates us through the complex hospital grounds.

We make it in time to see Angela being wheeled off.

"Aunt Angie! Uncle Ben!" The kids holler in unison, running down the stark white hallway toward the bed. Amanda jumps into Ben's outstretched arms, while Jasper picks up Chase so he can give his Aunt Angie a kiss. The doctor gives us a few moments to talk, while Chase reaches out tentatively, rubbing her protruding belly through the thin hospital blanket.

"Gimme a hug, you!" she says, holding her arms out for our boy. Chase leans down, embracing Angela - their resemblance is striking. While Amanda is almost identical to Jasper, Chase is a perfect combination of her and me.

"Where's Justin and Laura?" Amanda asks about their own two children.

"They're stayin' with their grandma for a few days," Ben responds. "But Auntie Rosalie, your cousin, and grandparents are in the waitin' room."

The kids squeal loudly, drawing attention, so, we all kiss Angela and head down to the waiting area where we find Jasper's mom, dad, Rosalie, and Cain.

Emmett had to work, and Alice will be coming next month to stay for a few weeks. We'll probably see my mom somewhere closer to the holidays. And my dad…

Well, I suspect I won't ever see my dad again.

It's been over nine years since I've talked to him. He couldn't handle me being gay and in a relationship – he tried at first, but when we'd told them that Angela was gonna carry a child for us, he told my mom it was the last straw, basically writing me off. So it'd been an easy decision, after Amanda was born, to change my name to match that of my husband and newborn.

Edward Hale – no hyphenation.

Mom visits without him, and dotes on the kids while she's here, but sometimes I wonder if she does it in spite of my father. Their marriage has been on death row for years now. Alice insists the relationship didn't go to shit because of me, but I'm not sure if I agree.

Notwithstandin', our children have grandparents that love and adore them. As a matter of fact, Jasper's parents are taking the kids with them tonight to spend a week at their house while we get everything situated with the little one at home.

As soon as Cain sees me, he rushes into my arms. We've had a very special relationship from the day he was born, and even though he's getting older and I see less of him, he still means the world to me.

"Uncle Edward, did you hear the new Falling in Reverse song 'Bleed Drum'?" he asks, the ear buds of his iPod dangling around his neck. I swear that contraption is attached to his body.

"Those guys are still around?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

"Whatever!" he scoffs, seeing through the façade. "Can you show me some chords from the chorus when I get back from grandma and grandpa's?

"Sure thing." The timing couldn't be worse, but I'll never be able to say 'no' to him.

"Score! Thanks, Uncle Edward." he exclaims, wrapping his arms around my waist again.

Over the head of my nephew, my attention focuses on the table in the center of the room where a wooden treasure chest lies – just like the one at the store, and it's overflowing with onesies, bottles, diapers and other baby paraphernalia.

My gaze darts to Chase, but he doesn't seem to care much that it's there. _Interesting_.

Pushing any forthcoming thoughts on the matter aside, I focus in on the eleven year-old in my arms.

"So, in a few more months, we'll be here again for the arrival of your baby brother or sister. Gettin' excited?"

He looks over at his mom, blushing when he notices all eyes are on him. "Sure," he states nonchalantly, but we all know he's just trying to act cool.

"You're not gonna be an only child anymore," I rib.

"It's no biggie," he says, shrugging.

Rosalie rolls her eyes, rubbing her thickened belly. It took her and Emmett eight years of trying to conceive, and one year of giving up, before she got pregnant again.

She'd been the caretaker for our children before they'd begun coming to school with me. This past year has been the first she's had in eleven years with no little ones during the day. Now, she's gonna have two newborns only months apart.

But if anyone can do it – she can.

"You ain't gonna mind it too much, Cain," Amanda advises.

"Mandy! Don't use that word," I reproach.

'Ain't' is one of the few words that I don't allow in my house. The words 'shut-up' and 'stupid' are also on the list.

"Oops, sorry, Daddy."

I'd given up on my battle with grammar about three years back, when I'd attempted to instill in Amanda how important it is to speak properly. Jasper didn't completely agree with my idealization of something he considered mundane, but he kept quiet about it.

Surrounded with southern twang and slang day in and day out, we both struggled with our speech for over a year, but one day, when Amanda came home talking like her friends I'd scolded her. Throughout the night she began stuttering, and eventually when she couldn't seem to get it right, she ran to her room with frustrated tears streaming down her cheeks.

Jasper threw his hands up in the air and stalked out of the room. Several minutes later I heard our front door slam. _God, it'd been so long since he'd done that_. I remember that it took everything in me to stay on my feet – the urge to crouch in on myself overwhelmed me when I stood trembling by the kitchen counter, watching Jasper's truck pull away.

Much later, Jasper had come home dusty and tired. The cold attitude he exuded when he passed me to enter our bathroom made me shiver. I tried staring him down, but he wouldn't look me in the eye. The silence stretched until I felt like I couldn't handle it.

When he spoke, his voice scared me. There was no yelling. No derision. No fury. I knew then that he'd never been more disappointed with me than he was at that moment, and it was devastating.

"_No more, Edward. This ends tonight," he'd demanded._

I didn't need him to tell me – I'd already made a decision earlier that evening.

"_I know…I talked to Mandy…you're right, baby…no more…I told her…please," I'd begged. _He still wouldn't look at me, but his face had softened and he dropped the discussion. Before he crawled into bed, he'd kissed me on the forehead, then turned on his side, facing away from me.

Unable to sleep that night, I'd recalled the pivotal conversation I'd had with Amanda, when I'd repeated what Peter had told me so many years ago – that we speak the language of our heart, and that it was high time for us to stop denying that plain truth.

Her blue eyes expressed hopefulness, but traces of disbelief still marred her sweet face and it broke my heart that she didn't trust me. As I laid in bed that night, I'd had to press the blanket to my lips to stop myself from crying out in anguish, and I'd practically jumped out of my skin when I'd felt that reassuring squeeze on my shoulder.

"_C'mere," he'd whispered, but I couldn't make my muscles unclench, paralyzed with regret and grief._

_He circled his arms around me, and that's all it took for the damn to break. "I hurt my baby…" I sobbed, trying unsuccessfully to keep my voice down. All my fears, and self-loathing had resurfaced, "How could I do that to her? God Jas, I'm such an awful dad."_

"_Shh, no Ed…you wanted what you thought was best. It's okay. She'll be okay. She loves you so much."_

"_I feel like I've let her down." _

I'd burrowed my face in his neck and cried…and cried.

At the breakfast table the next morning I'd casually asked her, "What instrument ya wanna play after school?" Amanda had looked stunned, before she smiled brightly.

"Imma thinkin' the French horn, Daddy," she answered, glowingly.

We never looked back after that.

My family means everything to me, but that doesn't make me perfect at it.

Jasper and I still make plenty of mistakes.

I can be too strict… uh, a nagger basically, and Jasper can be too laid back, which can be misconstrued as uncaring in certain situations.

I want to control everything so they won't get hurt or fail, but Jasper wants them to learn from their own mistakes. I agree with his concept in some cases, but it's still hard to let go.

We've learned that compromising on both of our parts is fundamental in making our home a happy one.

For instance, _I'm allowed_ to put hand-sanitizer in their backpacks, and _I'm allowed_ to stress the importance of its use, but _I'm no longer allowed_ to lecture them if they choose not to use it as much as I would like them to.

And Jasper _is allowed_ to take them to the lake (aka 'the germ bath') five times a summer, at which time _he's allowed_ to bring an overabundance of unhealthy foodstuffs for the kids to gorge on throughout the entire day, and _he's allowed_ to grill hotdogs for dinner (which shouldn't even be considered a food). But I don't argue or complain so long as _I'm allowed_ to bathe them in sunscreen at least once an hour, and make sure they each drink a minimum of three bottles of water.

It's not a flawless plan, but we make it work.

A nurse appears to inform us the surgery is taking longer than expected. She assures us it has nothing to do with the baby or Angela, but merely the pre-op set up had been delayed.

The kids have already abandoned the game of "Sorry" I'd been playing with them. Cain's turned on his iPod, and Amanda and Chase are darting around the confined quarters, playing tag.

Rosalie lowers herself into one of the seats next to her son, draping her arm over the young man's shoulders. He doesn't acknowledge her, but lays his head on her shoulder.

"Do you want me to take the kids outside to the park?" she asks, watching unfazed while my kids dash around chairs and tables, giggling and squealing.

"They've got a park?"

"Oh, yeah, a real nice one."

"Maybe I'll take them out there – let off a little steam," I suggest.

"Ya want me to go with ya, darlin'?" Jasper pipes up from several seats over.

Jasper had been talking quietly with his parents. He doesn't get to see them much anymore, so I'm hesitant to break up their conversation.

"No, we're good. C'mon kids."

Cain elects to stay behind, while we make our way down a long corridor that leads outside.

XXXXX

It's a beautiful park for sure…but that's not what makes me gasp.

We're finally here.

The vision I'd never forgotten.

The vision I'd had of my kids long before they were born.

Our wedding day, when I'd traced the letters Jasper had carved so intricately in the tree, I'd seen my beautiful children – here – in this park.

How fitting that the vision was stolen from the very day our third child is to be born. And now it's time for that vision to become a reality.

It's a large open space of soft green grass, flowery bushes, and various shades of wavy petunias. The kids resume their game of tag, while I find a comfortable perch to watch them from.

Taking a seat on a long wooden bench, I exhale a gush of air. Knowing what's to come sends a warm tingle through my body, but I wait patiently, relishing this experience.

I never told Jasper about this particular vision, but I did finally admit to him that I'd seen the letters he'd carved into 'our tree', months before he'd actually did it.

I have to give him credit; if he was skeptical, or thought I was crazy he didn't hint toward it at all.

I swore to him that it was the tree or the backyard causing these mysterious encounters, but he didn't think so. He'd insisted that he'd never had such an experience, and he'd been in its depths often enough to know.

He suggested that maybe we look into my family history – even driving me to the library in Baton Rouge and helping me research my family tree on the Internet.

And that's how I learned about my Great Aunt Bethie.

Marabeth Sizemore had been admitted to Danvers State Insane Asylum in Massachusetts when she was seventeen years old by her parents, after she'd claimed to have visions of the future. It was stated in released reports that Aunt Bethie told her psychiatrist her parents became scared when she told them about a fire she'd envisioned a few days before it actually came to pass.

Her parents believed that she had been the one that started the fire.

From inside the barred windows, she'd also predicted her parents' car accident and subsequent deaths two years before it happened. The information befuddled her team of doctors, but it didn't stop the asylum from holding her prisoner until her death ten years later after a botched lobotomy – just one year before the state of Massachusetts banned the controversial procedure altogether.

Upon a visit to Chicago, Jasper and I had shared this information with Alice, who had admitted to us that she'd also seen the signs of my ability when we were younger, but our mother had shown Alice techniques to help suppress my 'silly, pointless thoughts'.

I was four, and Alice only six, at the time.

She said not to blame mom, that she didn't want me to be different – she'd said kids that were different got picked on. And for that reason alone, Alice never second-guessed her decision to follow our mother's orders.

I haven't had any more visions, but I do have gut feelings once in a while, and the outcomes never fail to be spot on. Most people think I have really good instincts, but it's obvious to me that it's more than that.

For some reason, it seems the backyard of The Stormy Haven Inn sets my nerves on edge. The darkness, the mysteriousness, the cool damp feeling of ancient bark pressed against my palm – it messes with my senses, leaving me feeling vulnerable and small, giving me an adrenaline surge that must trigger my ability.

But they're only guesses, since I haven't talked to anyone about it professionally.

We still go into Rosalie's backyard, but I mainly keep to the deck. When one of the kids drags me down to the forest's floor I'm sure to steer clear of the old, thick tree. I still admire it from distance – love what it means to Jasper and I, but I prefer not knowing what's in store for us.

These days, I like to take my life day by day, enjoying all the little surprises and nuances life throws at me.

But, in learning of my gift, we've both accepted there are things out there that are bigger than us – beyond our comprehension.

One night, when Jasper was sprawled across my chest happy and sated, I could feel a sudden tension in his body before he asked if it was strange that Amanda seemed to have the same exact dreams that he did as a child…_'y'know, with the wolves_', he'd said.

I knew what he meant.

_Irina and Jane. _

He carried no such suspicions about the sister's in particular…but I did.

I never verified with Irina and Jane that they were the two wolves that spared my life that night, but I didn't need to. The next year when they had shown up for their annual two-week vacation, their piercing yellow eyes were exactly how I'd remembered them on that lonely walk back to the inn, when I'd come face-to-face with them in a different form.

I didn't tell Jasper what I thought, because it really isn't my place to say. I just told him that I didn't think it was strange in the least that Amanda had the same dreams – she was just reacting to the howling that can be heard through her bedroom window, just like he had.

But deep inside I do believe – and really – why wouldn't I? I'd like to think that someone other than me is watching over and protecting Jasper and the kids – maybe they're even watching over me, too.

And what does it hurt? Amanda adores them, and Chase is absolutely mesmerized by the pair.

Irina and Jane are equally smitten with both of them, but I can't help but notice they've got that gleam in their eye for Amanda, just like they do for her papa.

Blinking out of my thoughts, I watch while Jasper approaches.

He shakes his head when I begin to rise.

"No darlin', not yet," he murmurs, sitting beside me, latching onto my hand. "I just wanted to see what you guys were up to."

"Just lettin' them burn off some excess energy."

He chuckles, "Mmom and Dad will appreciate that." We smile at each other for a long moment, basking in the warmth of each other's gaze. It doesn't feel like my life can get any better than this, even though I'm positive it will.

Squeezing my husband's hand, my eyes stray back to the kids.

Technically, he's still not _legally_ my _husband_. Many states have changed their views on same-sex marriage, but I'm not holding out hope for the state of Louisiana to ever recognize Jasper and I as a couple in the eyes of the law.

But, now that Chase and Amanda are in school, we've had the 'two-daddy' talk with both of them. We are accepted as a couple in our community _for the most part_, but after all this time, there are still a few stubborn lumps that don't think Jasper and I should be allowed to raise kids.

I don't care about those narrow-minded assholes none. I just remind them the war is over and that we all live together now, even with our differences.

Still, Bon Terre is my home, and there's nowhere else that I'd rather live and raise my children.

Although, we may not be legally married, Seth and Garrett are. They married about five years ago on some island in the Caribbean.

They don't have kids – and most likely never will.

We'd found out later that Garrett is rich – apparently, he owns a chain of hotels. _Imagine that!_ And when Seth revealed to him that he'd never left the state, Garrett made it his mission to whisk Seth all over the globe, in a private jet no less, spoiling the living shit out of him, if you ask me.

They only come home a handful of times a year, and when they do they always make time to see us. Seth always brings trinkets from different countries for the kids, so of course they freakin' love him.

But I'm truly happy for both of them. It's nice to see my friend happy.

"I should probably text Pete," Jasper says.

"I thought he told you to wait, so you could send a picture of the baby."

"I know, but I can guarantee you he's pacin' around the house, since we told him the baby'd be here long before now."

"True." I watch while Jasper pulls out his phone and types his message. "Make sure you tell him there's no problems."

Peter is definitely a worrier.

I'm surprised it hasn't rubbed off on their two kids, but when Jasper and I had taken them a few weeks ago those two boys were just as carefree as ever.

After school lets out each year, we drop our kids off with them for a week, and then we have their kids for a week. It gives us all a much needed break.

Biologically, both children are Peter's, since Embry's cousin carried their babies for them, but thankfully, the kids ended up with Embry's relaxed disposition.

_Oh my God!_

There it is…

The vision.

The world blackens around me while I behold what a tree had been trying to show me ten years ago.

_Sweet Lord._

Butterflies!

My boy had been catching butterflies!

My breath stutters with emotion. Throughout the years, I'd wondered many times what Chase was showing Amanda in the palm of his hand.

"Here's _your_ butterfly, sissy." He crouches down, opening his palm slowly.

Sitting behind him, with her arm over his shoulder, Amanda stares into the palm of his hand, asking him, "What does it look like?"

And even though she can't see what he sees, she believes in him.

We'd realized about a year ago that Chase was going to know my gift as well, but we weren't sure to what extent. Last summer, he'd begun staring off into the distance, and pointing out things that we couldn't see.

Innocent things – like butterflies, but he hasn't had any visions of the future that we know of, and these special occurrences have dwindled significantly since he's started attending school this year.

"It's all different purples," he says, studying the invisible creature.

"Really? Purple's my favorite color." She smiles, and hugs her brother. "I wish I could see it, too."

We once read that children are more susceptible to outside forces because they're more open-minded, but as adults we learn to suppress or tamp down the unknown, for more reasonable and practical rationale. So he may or may not lose his ability with age, but if he doesn't, I know he'll always have his big sister there to protect him.

"It's pretty…just like you, sissy."

My eyes blur with overwhelming emotion. When they refocus, Jasper is bent down in front of Chase asking where his butterfly is.

He laughs, happily. "Silly Papa, it's right here on your shoulder."

"Yeah?"

Chase reaches forward, scooping his hand over Jasper's shoulder, bringing the cupped hand over for Jasper to see. Jasper lifts the little hand and blows softly into his palm, smiling when Chase springs up.

His eyes look toward the sky while he runs after Jasper's butterfly, but Jasper clutches onto him and tackles him gently to the ground. Amanda quickly joins in as they wrestle with each other.

Jasper crawls over to me, while the kids are engaged in a tickle fight. They're rolling on the ground, getting filthy - but I can't find it in me to give a shit.

"Why're ya cryin', darlin'?"

Stunned, I swipe at my face, surprised to feel wetness there.

Shaking my head - there's just no words to describe it. "I'm just so fuckin' happy," I tell him.

He looks contemplative for a moment – like he's got a question to ask. "So, you don't know…right?" He asks, cautiously.

He's talking about the sex of the baby.

I grin, and he gives me the evil eye.

"Nope - promise." I cross my heart for emphasis, while he studies my face for lies. He can always tell when I'm fibbing.

And I really didn't know.

But after putting my ear to Angela's belly last week, there's no mistaking that it was Jasper's heartbeat I'd heard, leaving me no doubt that his blood ran through our unborn child's veins. Fortunately, I'd pulled away before any more details would've been revealed.

"Alrighty, just makin' sure," he says, with a warning tone.

He turns around and chuckles, "Look at our boy," Smiling, he watches Chase continue to run around, huffing and grasping at air, while Mandy bathes in the sun.

"Well, when life gives you butterflies, what choice do you have but to chase them?"

And it's the truth.

Because if you're lucky enough you'll catch one, and when you open the palm of your hand and they spread their wings, you can stare into nature's beauty, and maybe see your own life. Every vivid color, intricate wave, delicate pattern is every choice you've ever made – every path you've ever taken, and hopefully every one of those choices is outlined with a thick bold border. Because it means that whatever choices you've made in your life – right or wrong – you've done them with purpose and gusto.

Before I met Jasper, my life…my butterfly used to be dull and lifeless, but it's been reborn. With strong vibrant colors of imperfect shapes encased in dark curvy lines, it flutters in the wind, happy and carefree.

_I know_…I've seen it.

Jasper's phone beeps.

_It's time._

He rises, glancing at the message on the screen.

He holds his hand out to me, and pulls me from my seat. "I love you."

"I love you too." Our lips meet in a sweet chaste kiss.

"C'mon kids, time to meet your new brother or sister," Jasper commands.

"Yay! C'mon sissy," Chase tugs on Amanda's arm, "it's time to go see Mara!"

Jasper stops in his tracks and levels me with a look of undiluted exasperation.

We'd discussed baby names privately, and Mara was on our list, named after my Aunt Marabeth, who struggled, suffered and died for having the same gift my son and I have.

The name meant a lot to both of us, but we'd picked out several other names, and decided we wouldn't make a final decision until we'd seen the baby.

I can't help but laugh, and shrug helplessly at Jasper's dour expression.

_What can I say? That's my kid. _

He shakes his head, throwing his arms around me, and kissing my temple. "Well, let's go see _Mara_ then."

And so we do – and she is the most precious baby girl.

With Chase on my lap, laughter and good cheer all around, I watch contentedly as Jasper cradles our newborn daughter in his arms.

In a couple of days, we'll be able to bring her home, and then it'll be time for us to live out that happily ever after…

Not that I knew we would have one or anything… I promise.

*wink*

The End

* * *

><p><strong>AN<strong>: I wish I could have given you some facts, or concrete proof in the closing of this fic, but some of this story was based on things that don't have a clear answer - it's all about what you believe in. I don't know whether _I_ believe in shape-shifting guardian angels or clairvoyance – but one thing I do believe in is fiction – and that's what this story is. So, take or leave it, because that's it folks. It might not be perfect, but I'm sticking by every word of it.

Final thoughts. Like it? Love it? Hate it?

For those of you that don't like to review, how about a scale of 1 to 10.

1 = please throw your laptop away.

5 = It was decent.

6 = entertaining - I likey

8 = Pretty damn good

9 = Love

10 = I will read this over and over again, until you come out with something else I can stalk.

Cajun references were found at – LSU's dept of French studies


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